


The Unimaginable

by angelheartbeat



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Collars, Damn this is fucking dark, Gore, I'll add them as I go - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, More tags to be added, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Psychostrider, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Assault, Shock Collars, Torture, Violence, non-graphic, psychostriders, why do I like psychostriders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheartbeat/pseuds/angelheartbeat
Summary: It is not often that Dave Strider, sunglass-wearing stoic teenager and definitive psychopath, shows any hint of positive emotion.And it's all because of that infuriating teen with his perfect looks and charm. It drove Dave crazy.He just wanted John by his side.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yeeee boiiiiiiiiiiiiii  
> there isn't enough psychostriders for my liking so here have some fuckin violence why not
> 
> idk how long this is gonna be I have approximately zero plan
> 
> It's just torture and bad times
> 
> Sue me

It was very rare that Dave showed positive emotions. Or any emotions at all, for that matter. 

But every day now he was smiling, grinning, even fucking laughing, and disappearing for hours on end before coming "home" (because what was homely about the place he and Bro stayed in) and clutching this stupid notebook, an expression of pure joy on his face. 

And Bro was curious. 

"Where you goin', Davey?" he asked, his large frame blocking the front door. Dave frowned. Despite the fact that their heights were almost the same, their builds were completely different. Bro was stocky, muscled from his physical approach to disposing of victims. Dave, however, was much lankier, his limbs long and slender. Thanks to his muscle-less frame, he was completely unable to push past his rock of a brother.

"None of your business," he replied coolly, the brothers having an intense staredown from behind their respective sunglasses. 

Without a word, Bro reached out and nabbed Dave's notebook from under his arm. 

"Hey! Fucking give that back!"

"Make me," the larger man said over the top of his brothers indignant protests. Flicking through the pages, his eyebrows widened in genuine surprise. If Dave wasn't so angry, he might even have been proud of himself for throwing his brother off. 

"You've been stalking this kid?" Bro asked suddenly, holding up the notebook. Polaroids and notes floated out from between the pages, sliding to the floor, and Dave scrambled to pick them up. 

"No! Yes? Maybe! It's none of your business!" he fumbled, tongue-tied. 

Bro took a good long look at one of the photos glued in the notebook. The kid seemed pretty average to him. A mass of black hair, square glasses covering rather nice blue eyes, and buck teeth protruding from his mouth and pressing into a plump lower lip. Bro felt himself licking his own lips as he looked at the picture. Maybe not as average as he initially thought. 

"How long has this been going on for?" he demanded as Dave finished scrabbling and straightened up, even though he knew the answer already. A month, three weeks and two days. Exactly how long Dave's elated mood had lasted. 

Dave sighed. "Like, two months," he muttered, head hanging low. He knew there was no point in trying to deny it now. Bro had already seen all the evidence. 

"John Egbert, huh?" Bro said, one thick eyebrow raising from beneath his signature pointed lenses. "Birthday April 13th, star sign Aries, blah blah blah, blood type? Man, you've really gone all out."

Dave didnt respond, head still low. He may have no morals, but Bro being mad at him always stung, this time more than usual. John was  _his_ project. Bro had no rights to take it from him. 

So naturally he was shocked when Bro pressed the notebook in his hands, a low chuckle filling the room.

"Go on. Go see your little pet." Bro said amusedly, stepping out of the doorway and opening it with flair. The abandoned apartment complex they inhabited was far enough out of the way that he was comfortable simply opening the door wide. 

Dave didnt wait to be told twice, scurrying out of the cold lobby immediately. He was inwardly cursing that he was off on the timings of Johns daily schedule thanks to the hold up, but with a little luck he should be able to get right back to watching right away. 

And Bro stood in the doorway, turning things over in his head and watching his little brother skip off like an excited child. The image of this John Egbert floated about in his head, and he entertained himself for a little while by thinking of that cute face in different scenarios. 

His mouth open, begging for more. That same mouth, closed in obedience, buck teeth pushing the soft flesh of his lip aside. Tears springing to those clear blue eyes. Blood dripping from the button nose as he sobbed, begging Bro for mercy. His glasses broken and smashed, just like his will. 

 _Fuck yeah,_ Bro thought, stepping back inside and closing the door.  _I can see what Dave sees in him._

He needed a shower. 

* * *

John hadn't been entirely oblivious to the tall blond popping up every now and then. 

Of course, he had paid it no mind. He had written it off as simply coincidental, unsurprising as he assumed they lived in the same town. It had seemed a little odd at times when the blond seemed to almost scrutinise his behaviour, and he often felt uncomfortable when he became aware of the blonds presence. But, he had better things to think about than paying attention to some creepy blond guy who always wears sunglasses and carries a notebook. 

Today was different than normal. He slept in past his alarm, forcing him to rush and get dressed. He didnt have time for breakfast, simply shoving on his favourite hoodie, throwing on his backpack, and racing out of his house after shouting a quick goodbye to his father.

As he started to run to school with all the power in his shorter-than-average-but-he-would-never-admit-it legs, he had to admit he was panicking. He was never late to school, and much as he disliked being teased about it, he was really rather proud of himself. 

His mood wasn't helped by the irritating, creepy, sunglass-wearing blond stranger crashing into him, seemingly in a similar hurry. 

They crashed to the ground, John landing much heavier than the blond. His backpack and slight chub dragged him down, making him wince in pain as he crashed onto the concrete sidewalk.

The stranger seemed unharmed, shooting up like a rocket and jumping over to help John up. Had the shorter teen been in a mood to notice it, he might have found it odd how eager the stranger was to help. In any case, he waved off the assistance and pushed himself to his feet. 

They stared at each other for a second, or at least John thought they did. It was hard to tell where the blond was looking behind his black shades, stark against his unnaturally pale skin, dusted with freckles. Again, had John been in the mood to think about it, he might have considered the stranger rather attractive. 

"Uh.. Sorry." John eventually spoke, breaking the silence. The stranger seemed to snap out of some trance, presumably blinking behind his shades, and held out a hand awkwardly. 

"I'm Dave," the stranger spoke, his voice monotone and his face deadpan, and John was reaching out for his hand while grabbing his phone out of his pocket with the other absentmindedly. 

"I'm-" he began, his fingers about to touch Dave's to shake. His eyes widened as he checked the time, panic washing over him. 

"I'm fucking late, thats what I am!" he exclaimed. He threw an apology loudly over his shoulder as he began to sprint again, even more hurriedly than before. There went his no-lates track record.

* * *

Dave stood and watched John's average frame sprint off into the distance, his hand still outstretched. He had been one millimetre from touching Johns hand. And the boy was even cuter up close. 

It didnt matter that he hadn't told Dave his name. He already knew it. 

But everything about John was so much more intense up close. His bright blue eyes, his tempting lips and infuriating buck teeth gnawing on them all the time, his soft, faint scent of baking, custard pies and pipe smoke underneath his deodorant (Dave briefly wondered if he had a relative who smoked a pipe, making a mental note to write that down), his high yet soft voice like the greatest symphony to Dave's ears. Everything about him was just perfect. 

He was perfect. 

Picking up the few things that had dropped from his notebook when he fell, Dave thanked the god he knew didnt exist that John hadn't spotted them. If he had seen pictures of himself fall from what he knew as a strangers hands, he would have been royally freaked out. Dave had a sneaking suspicion that John was more than a little wary of him in any case. He had gotten ahead of himself while watching a few times and let his guard down. 

But none of that mattered. Before long, Join would be within his grasp. John would be his. 

He would fucking well make sure of it. 

* * *

John sat in class, grumbling quietly to himself for sleeping in. His mind kept wandering, and again and again he kept coming back to the blond stranger. Or, well, he supposed he wasn't a stranger anymore, was he? He had a name now. Dave. Dave. The sound felt oddly comforting. 

He tapped his pencil against the desk. Dave what, he wondered? All the names he put with it ruined it. It destroyed the comforting aura, despite Dave himself giving off a somewhat creepy vibe. 

His foot traced an outline on the carpeted floor. He wondered briefly why he had never seen Dave in school. The blond had looked about the same age, perhaps sixteen instead of fifteen? He felt older, but John couldn't tell if that was his height, his covered eyes or his creepy aura - or all three. What could be seen of his face was certainly reminiscent of a teenager. 

Then again, his deadpan face left little to be gained from his expression. Maybe that was what set alarm bells jingling for John. 

He sighed deeply, not realising that there had been a pause in his teachers lecture. All eyes in the room turned to him. 

"Something to add, Mr Egbert?" his teacher glared from the front of the room. Harpy. 

"I... Uh... No, miss." John said, flushing and turning his head downwards. Mumbles flew around the classroom and he felt the shells of his ears turning red. It was just a sigh. Could they move on any slower? 

Eventually the whispers died down and his teacher turned back to the board, continuing her monotone lecture. John could feel the burn of eyes staring at him, refusing to acknowledge any of them. This day couldn't get any worse. 

* * *

As he stepped out of the shower and onto a bath mat, Bro considered a few possibilities. He didnt know how willing Dave would be to go through with them, mainly because the majority of them contained a lot of violence towards his precious little wonder-nerd, but he would certainly be willing, and really, when did he start caring what his little brother thought of his actions? 

Tying a towel around his waist, Bro let his hair drip and admired himself in the mirror. He knew he had no morals, and most people would call him a monster. If they lived long enough to stick through what he did. 

But he was curious about this Egbert kid. Curious about exactly why he caught Dave's attention, curious about what exactly he could do to him and what kind of screams he could force from that pretty little throat, and curious about his limits. The curiosity about his limits wasn't about what he could or couldn't do in order to not break his potential new pet. It was how to push the kid over them.

It was curiosity on how to break his pet. After all, they all have to be trained. 

* * *

"Are you crazy?"

"Yes."

Bro's deadpan expression didnt give anything away, and Dave felt like an idiot for even asking the question. Of course his brother was crazy. They both were. 

"I won't go through with it," he said angrily, and Bro shrugged. 

"I'll do it myself," he said calmly, and ice cold fear shot up Dave's spine. "And I'll keep him all to myself, too. You'll be able to see me dragging him around by a leash, his neck bruised, his body shaking and weak from endless torture, his eyes dull. He'll look up at you and plead for you to help him, but you won't be able to touch him, or I'll kill him. Just watch as I slowly break him down to nothing more than a wretched, worthless, useless little-"

"Fine!" Dave cut in, visibly shaking. Every one of Bro's words had been like a punch in the face. "Fine." he repeated. Anything to save John from the fate that Bro had described for him. 

Bro smiled, his teeth showing, yellowing with a few missing. "Excellent," he purred. "Tonight?"

"If you insist."

"I do indeed."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then. The next chapter will feature the kidnapping itself, and there'll potentially be violence. I'll put Kankri warnings (aka trigger warnings) for each chapter if necessary.
> 
> I'm also planning on writing some much nicer fics for Homestuck and likely some more JohnDave because much as I like psychostriders I feel too bad for John to just write this


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: electric shocks, kidnapping

As John prepared for bed that evening he had an uneasy sense of being watched. 

Everything went normally. He played a short tune on the piano, tripped over a stray harlequin laying on the floor by the stairs, grumbled about said stray harlequin, said goodnight to his father (who was busy making cookies) and brushed his teeth. 

As he leant over and spit the toothpaste into the sink, he could've sworn something moved behind him. 

But he ignored it and moved on, chalking it up to being in a bad mood from earlier that day. Eventually he settled into bed, in a simple white t shirt and blue shorts. It didnt take him long to fall asleep.

Once he was asleep, two figures emerged from the shadows in his room. 

* * *

In his hands, Dave held a bottle of chloroform and a rag. He felt disgusting at the idea of knocking out the adorable teen this way, but Bro had insisted, and what Bro wanted, Bro got. So instead of arguing, he simply intended to be gentle, even switching the rough rag Bro had thrust into his hands with the bottle for a gentle cotton handkerchief. 

Speaking of Bro, he stood on the opposite side of the room, a rough sack shape in his hands, alongside some rope, a blindfold and a gag. Dave felt sick when he looked at them, a sure sign that John lit something inside him that he couldn't explain, something that brought back the morals Bro destroyed a long time ago. 

Eventually, John returned to his room and crawled into bed, both Striders pressing against the wall and staying perfectly still. They didnt even breath. Before long, the dark-haired teens breathing slowed to a sleepy snuffle. It was the most adorable thing Dave had ever heard, and he almost melted. 

"Dave," Bro hissed, signalling for Dave to step forward and press the rag against the sleeping, snuffling face. Snapping out of it, Dave emerged from the shadow silently along with his brother. They made their way over to the bed, and Dave took a moment to look at the boy before him. 

He had never got a chance to see John like this before. This close, at his most vulnerable. His eyelashes fluttered lightly on his cheeks, and his chest rose and fell steadily with his breathing. His hair was a mess around his face, even worse than norma, making Dave consider the possibility that John gelled his hair to make it look loose and messy. It was the cutest thing in his mind. 

Taking a moment to brush away a perfect lock of hair, Dave leant down, and pressed a single kiss to John's brow. He had never felt so at peace. 

Johns eyes flickered open. 

"D-Dad..?" he murmured, his eyes not yet open and awake enough to register that Dave was not Dad. Quick as a blink, Dave smoothly pressed the chloroform-soaked handkerchief against Johns mouth and nose, meaning when he breathed to speak again, he got a lungful of chemicals.

His eyes widened as he registered that they were strangers before he slipped away again, this time induced by powerful chemicals. Dave flinched as he watched, knowing the numbing capabilities and sense failure weren't the most comfortable thing. 

Bro made quick work with the ropes, gag and blindfold, tying Johns wrists together and then tying them to his ankles. The blindfold was pulled tight around his eyes, and the gag was simply a rough rag shoved in his mouth with another rag tied around his head to stop him from spitting it out. Between the in-the-mouth gag and the tied gag, Dave slipped the chloroform handkerchief, in order for John to continue breathing it and stay unconscious. The tied teen was shoved in the bag unceremoniously, earning Bro a hard glare from Dave, who took the bag gently, like a precious gift. 

They pulled the window open after rearranging John's bed and room a little and jumped out, the landing bothering neither of them. 

When Dad Egbert came in to his sons room next to bring him some cookies, he would find no explanation. Just his son gone, his bed made, and the window wide open. 

He never made those cookies again. It was too painful. 

* * *

Slowly, one blue eye began to flutter open, and then the other. Feeling returned to John's fingers, and he wiggled them to make sure, sighing in relief when it was confirmed that he still had all his digits. 

Despite keeping hold of all his fingers (and toes, too - he checked), John had an odd sense of not being able to move. He frowned as his vision slowly returned. He still couldn't see anything, despite his eyes being open, and he briefly wondered if he had gone blind, before his eyelashes brushed cloth and he relaxed, but only marginally. It was just a blindfold. 

He could feel a rough rag in his mouth, preventing him from closing it properly, and hard as he tried to push it out with his tongue, he just couldn't. Something was blocking his mouth from the outside, and once the numbness totally disappeared, he realised there was cloth around his mouth as well. 

He was lying on what appeared to be a flat surface, the texture much like concrete. His body was bent backwards, ankles and wrists tied together with what felt like regular rope. With a little time and patience, he felt like he could probably pick at the knots and get himself free. 

He was still a little groggy despite all the numbness and his senses returning, so he couldn't quite put two and two together yet. All he knew was it was dark and his body ached and much as he tried not to be, he was scared. 

So it came as no comfort at all when a heavy, metal-toed boot came crashing down onto his face. He let out a yelp, his breathing quickening, as gravel dug it's way into his skin, dirtying and muddying his skin. 

"You awake yet, kiddo?" came a gruff voice, and John didnt see how he couldn't answer. He nodded, swallowing around the gag in his mouth. 

Another murmur came, quiet and monotone, and John could've sworn he recognised that voice. He strained to try and hear what was being said, but the gruff voice and the monotone voice were speaking quietly enough that he couldn't hear. 

All of a sudden he felt himself being lifted and roughly dropped on a chair. His ankles and wrists were untied, and he savoured his brief moment of comfort before he was tied even tighter to the chair. The blindfold was whipped off. 

It took Johns eyes a moment to get used to the suddenly harsh light, but once he did he let out a squeak. Before him stood easily the biggest and most intimidating man John had ever seen. His hair was slick and gelled, almost the same colour as his skin, and his eyes were covered by pointed anime shades. He stared down, all rippling muscles and height, and when he saw Johns fearful eyes, he let out a low chuckle and licked his lips threateningly.

John felt his heart stop, and he had to tear his eyes away from the man in order to survey the other person in the room, almost hiding behind the other. His heart started again, thrumming almost as fast as he wanted to be running, far far away from wherever he was. It was Dave. 

Any semblance of attraction John might have had to him disappeared in an instant. It began to dawn on him what had happened, and try as he might to calm his breathing, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, painful and humiliating. 

Dave crept forward, pushing Bro aside. His slender fingers caressed Johns face, pushing aside loose bits of gravel still stuck to him. The dark-haired teen felt himself cringe as he felt both their eyes looking at him, even from behind the glasses. Oh, what he would give to have his classmates staring at him for disrupting the class now. He would do anything to be back in that moment. 

But he was here, and everything felt very real and very big and very intimidating, and shameful tears slipped out, trickling down his cheeks. 

Dave shushed him, even though he hadn't made any noise, and leant forward. John froze up as the blonds lips brushed his forehead. 

_Oh my god this is not happening this is not happening this is not happening this is not_

But it was. 

* * *

Bro and Dave had disappeared after that, leaving John tied to a chair with a dirty face and tear tracks down his cheeks. It was embarrassing, and he could still feel a burning sensation where Dave's lips had touched his skin. He knew it could've been worse, but he felt violated all the same. 

Continuing his fruitless attempts to push the rough rag out of his mouth, John idly traced a pattern on the side of the chair. The room was pretty much completely empty. The floor was concrete, like he had thought, and the walls were a stark white. The only things in it seemed to be John and the chair, although he couldn't twist far enough to see behind him. There were no windows as far as he could see either, just a single door. It was illuminated by fluorescent strip lights, and he briefly wondered where on earth he could be. 

 _Not home,_ his brain supplied, unhelpfully, and he felt the hot prick of tears spring to his eyes again. 

Before they could slide down his cheeks, though, the door opened once again. 

Dave and the muscled guy returned, and John strained to hear their conversation again, but he did pick up that the larger man was presumably named Bro, or at least thats what Dave called him. Said larger man was holding an unmarked, unlabelled box, and for some reason Johns fear spiked when he looked at it. 

Eventually Bro and Dave settled in front of him, placing the box down just out of sight for John to see what was inside. 

"Right," Bro began roughly, leaning down to pick something up. The teen stood beside him, his arms folded and his face unreadable, no matter how much John pleaded with his eyes. "You need to start getting used to us, so here. My names Bro."

Johns eyes snapped back to the pointy-shades one. He had one large hand extended, the other behind his back, and John tugged at the ropes binding his arms to his sides, eliciting a bone-chilling chuckle from the man. "Whoops! Forgot you're a bit tied up at the moment."

Normally, John would've laughed at the bad joke, but right now, he was simply terrified. After Bro finished guffawing at his own joke, he brought his hand out from behind his back, revealing that he had a strip of leather. Metal prongs stuck out one side of it, and a rather intimidating contraption presumably for fastening it was at one end. 

John felt his eyes widen and chills run down his spine as he realised what it was, a sadistic smirk crossing Bro's face. The tied up teen looked back at Dave, begging him with his eyes, and for a second could've sworn a flash of remorse crossed that stoic face. But then it was gone, and Dave simply stepped back to allow the other man easier access to their prisoner. 

Bro stepped forward, wielding the collar, and John knew he looked absolutely terrified, but by the hungry look on Bro's slightly-more-expressive-face-than-Daves, his fear was hilarious, or worse. 

Unable to do anything except close his eyes and whimper into the gag, John felt the collar close around his neck, the foreboding click of a padlock sealing his fate. The metal prongs dug into his neck and confusion sparked. He thought they would stick out like a spiked collar on a dog. 

 _Why are they digging into my neck?_ he thought to himself, trying to keep his breathing under control. It didnt take long before his question was answered.

Electricity ran through him, sending his body into restrained convulsions. His eyes rolled back in his head and his screams were muffled as wave after wave of electricity was pumped in through the prongs in his neck, his entire body twitching and convulsing as pain shot through all of him. Tears sprung to his eyes but didnt fall, his body in too much pain to even release his tears. 

And then the electricity was gone. John felt like any pain he had ever felt had been gone. He was floating on cloud nine, blissful in the absence of pain, everything numb and floaty. 

It didnt take long for the electric shocks to start again, pumping even more voltage into his vulnerable flesh. Dave had stopped watching the first time, seemingly unable to watch John in pain. The teen being shocked assumed (in the spaces between shocks) that Dave had little to no power over his brother, or he would have stopped him the first time - or, that was what John hoped, and it wasn't just that Dave didnt care. The blond had seemed nice enough beforehand. 

Eventually, the shocks died off completely. Drool filled Johns mouth, leaking out of the corners around the gag and dripping down his chin, mixing with his tears. His fingers twitched involuntarily, and he could sense that the flesh around the prongs had burnt. 

When he gathered himself enough to look up at Bro, he saw a sadistic grin across the man's face. Fuck, if he was actually enjoying himself-

"Bro." Dave finally spoke, and it was a relief for John to hear something other than sadistic chuckles and his own muffled screams. "That's enough."

Bro sighed like a petulant child. "Fiiiiine."

They gathered up their things and left without another word, leaving John staring after them, his body still twitching with electricity left in his veins. He was unable to talk, unable to move, unable to do anything except fall into his own minds trap. 

He was more scared than he had ever been in his life. 

Trying to keep himself somewhat happy in the empty room, John imagined that this was all just a bad dream. He would wake up, and there would be cake on his bedside table, and he would check Pesterchum and talk to Jade and Rose, and his cousin Jane might come over and bake something with him, because at this point he'd do anything to smell baking cookies instead of his own burning flesh. He'd trip over a harlequin, probably, or step on one, and he'd smile and laugh and everything would be okay. 

He collapsed in on himself as much as he could in his restrained state, sniffling slightly at the memories. He was in pain and confused - god he was confused.

Why him? Why would anyone want to kidnap him of all people? His father wasn't rich, none of his family were, but they had enough money to live comfortably. He didnt have any information about government operation, he just liked bad movies and Nicolas Cage and magic and programming computers even though he knew he was bad at it. It wasn't like he was a spy or anything, he was just a normal kid. 

A normal kid terrified and alone and in pain. 

Eventually, he passed out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeet this is oddly fun to write I'm a Bad Person 
> 
> But hey you're reading this so
> 
> New updates probably coming soon I'm likely gonna spend today writing a lot


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: mild sexual assault (just kissing, no tongue), graphic descriptions of violence

When John awoke, his surroundings had once again drastically changed. This time, before he even opened his eyes, he vowed to himself that he would not break, he would not cry, and he would not give in, no matter what these sadistic psychopaths did to him. 

With that promise made to himself, he opened his eyes, fearful of whatever was lying in wait. 

Instead of some empty room with bright white walls, or worse that his mind had been expecting, he found himself laying between fluffy white sheets. They were cool against his skin, gentle and soft. The ceiling was a peaceful, calming white, instead of the almost fluorescent look of the other room. 

John sat up, more than a little confused. His wrists and ankles were completely free and there was no gag in or over his mouth, but he noted that the shock collar still bit into the scorched flesh of his neck. The room wasn't exactly fancily furnished, but he was laying in a large, soft bed, and there was a few chairs and a table in what he could see. A door led to what he assumed was either the exit or a bathroom, and he didnt expect the exit to be unlocked, not in a million years. 

Cautiously, hesitantly, John swung his legs around and placed his feet down, standing up unsteadily. His toes sank into plush carpeting, and he wiggled them a little, trying to get some feeling into his body again. 

As he walked around, he noted down every little object or marking in the room, of which there were few. A few chairs and a table, on which sat a soggy bowl of cereal. A door that led to a small, almost completely empty bathroom, and another door that presumably led out - locked as he had expected. Other than those sparse furnishings and the bed, the room seemingly had nothing. 

Picking up the bowl of cereal, John sniffed it carefully for any odd scents, and was surprised by his stomach growling hungrily. He had no idea when it was, how long it had been, or when he had last eaten. The room didnt come with any windows, or at least any visible ones, so he had no clue what time it was. It could've been 3am for all he knew or, frankly, cared. 

His hunger taking over his body, John began to dig into the bowl of soggy cereal. He felt awful about eating anything his captors gave him, but just then the pangs in his stomach were too painful to ignore. 

He just hoped the cereal wasn't laced with some scentless drugs or something, because more pain was most definitely unwelcome. 

The thought of pain returned Johns attention to the collar around his neck, and he made his way into the bathroom where he had noted a mirror to survey the damage. 

 _Yikes,_ John thought, looking at himself. He had never looked worse. His hair was all over the place and tangled, his eyes looked sad and dull, and dried blood was still in a trail from his nose, presumably from being knocked against something, as he doubted shocks could cause a nosebleed. He thanked whatever god was out there that his glasses were okay, and that he still had possession of them. 

But what drew his attention most was the damage to his neck. The area around the uncomfortable metal prongs had taken the most burning, as expected. The skin was red raw and blistering, twisted and scabbed with the violence of the shocks he had received. Leaning forward, John poked his burns with a shaking finger and winced. That was gonna take a while to heal, and would only get worse if he was shocked again. 

"Looking good, Egbert," he mumbled, straightening up and looking at himself fully again. A small part of him wanted to break down sobbing, cry and cry and cry until even a little bit of his fear and pain was outside of his body where he didnt have to deal with it-

"John?"

Johns eyes widened in an instant, and he looked around frantically. There was nothing he could use as a weapon, so he opted to slam the bathroom door shut and uselessly hope that whoever was coming in didnt think to look in there. 

Over the thumping in his chest, the dark-haired teen heard the door unlock and open, and footsteps begin making their way around the room. There was a pause, and Johns heart crawled up to his throat and lodged there, restricting his breathing and hammering hard. 

Slowly, agonisingly slowly, the door began to open, and John scrambled to back up against the wall in case it was Bro. 

It wasn't Bro. 

Dave's face peered around the door, his lips sealed and his eyes shaded. John couldn't believe he had ever found that face attractive. Now it just terrified him. The idea that someone could willingly stand there and watch as an innocent teen was pumped full of electricity-

John felt his heart stop dead as Dave walked in, leaning casually against the doorway like this was a normal encounter. 

"You're awake," he said, voice still monotone. John nodded and didnt say anything, terrified that if he spoke his voice would crack, or, even worse, he'd break down sobbing. 

"You found the cereal," Dave continued, and John simply nodded again. The blond made a rough sound in his throat and took a step towards the shorter teen, who had to use every ounce of will in his tiny body to not bolt, to just stand there defiantly as this terror was advancing towards him. 

It didnt take long before Dave's hand was underneath his chin, tilting his face upwards to presumably make eye contact. 

"I'm so glad you're finally mine," Dave whispered, perhaps intentionally, perhaps not. In any case, it sent shooting panic down Johns spine, and every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run, run while the doors were open and he had a chance, but his body was frozen in place. 

Time seemed to stop. Dave leant down, and John could somehow sense that his eyes were closed, despite them being invisible to him. The only sound was the intense thrumming of Johns traitor of a heart. 

Their lips touched, Dave being gentle, too gentle. John couldn't stand it anymore. 

He tore away from the unwanted kiss, feeling disgusting and violated, and bolted from the bathroom, sprinting out of the doorway and into an unfamiliar hallway as fast as he could. 

He could hear Dave emerging from the bathroom behind him and took off like a shot down the hall, not caring where he went so long as he got away, far away from Dave.

* * *

Dave stood and watched John shoot off down the hall, seemingly unbothered by his rejection. He knew Bro would catch him, and it would take time for John to adjust, but he would have his prize. He didnt care how long it took for John to fall for him. 

Admittedly, it had hurt, seeing John in so much pain the night before. Seeing those perfect blue eyes dulled with pain, pleading from behind those perfect squared frames, tears mixing with dirt from Bro's boot and his own drool, his neck burning more with every shock. But he knew that Bro would have his way no matter how much he protested, so he begrudgingly allowed it. 

He felt like John was going to be in a lot more pain inflicted by Bro, for a long time, and he knew it was going to hurt both of them. He just wanted to protect John, just wanted to keep him safe and warm and love him and be loved by him. 

But good things come to those who wait, and god knows Dave knew that, being forced to wait days, sometimes, just to get fed by his sadist of a brother. He had gotten used to the pain and suffering, and much to his annoyance and dismay, John had to, as well. It was the Strider way. They had to be broken before they could do anything.

It wasn't long before Dave heard the familiar shout of his brother, and a terrified squeal of Johns. A sigh escaped his lips, which he touched gently, the memory of his lips against Johns fresh in his mind. It was even better than he imagined, even if it had only lasted a brief moment. 

Before long, Bro had hauled John back to the room he had run from, holding the small teen tightly by the arm, a threatening looking whip in the other. John was blabbering, looking scared out of his wits, and Dave didnt know how to react, simply stepping aside to allow Bro to deliver his punishment.

* * *

After John had bolted, he desperately began to hunt for a way out. He would do anything to escape this hellhole, and he was internally begging to find an escape. 

Instead, he ended up running headfirst into Bro. 

The tall man shouted a wordless cry of anger, and John squealed as he grabbed his arm tightly, gripping it hard enough to bruise. Feeling himself begin to be dragged back the way he came, John found it very hard not to cry. For all he knew, he could've been metres away from freedom, but instead he was being dragged back to the room with a teen who kissed him without asking. 

Bro paused by a door for a moment, commanding John to stay exactly outside, and Johns terrified state invited him to do just that as Bro rummaged around inside the room. The smell of metal and rotting meat floating out from inside and John gagged, his mind screaming at him to run again but also telling him to stay put. 

Eventually Bro reappeared, wielding a nasty looking whip, and John swallowed. The man didnt say anything, just grabbed John's arm again, even tighter if that was possible, setting off once again with the teen tripping and stumbling over his feet. 

They made it back to where Dave stood, the blond teen moving silently to allow Bro and John to enter. John could hardly register that they were moving towards the bed before he was shoved to his knees, his face shoved into the mattress. 

"Dave, tie his wrists," John heard Bro say, and then heard Dave leave for a few moments. He desperately wanted to apologise, to beg and plead for mercy until they would just let him go. 

Soon enough, Dave returned, pulling Johns arms so they lay flat alongside his head, ears almost covered by his arms. Even more terror washed over the shortest in the room as cuffs were tightened around his wrists. Rope he could pick his way out of, cuffs not so much. 

Laying there, face smashed into the mattress and arms cuffed and useless, John had a brief moment of almost complete emptiness. He couldn't think of anything. There was roaring in his ears, drowning out all sounds, and all he could think was how terrified he was, and dread whatever they were going to do to him. 

His shirt was none-too-carefully ripped open and tossed aside, as though it was a bit of paper. Johns fear-addled mind took the time to think a thought as trivial as  _man, that was a nice shirt,_ before his whole world exploded around him and the whip came cracking down on his back. 

John heard the crack before he felt the hit, the pain indescribable. Bro began to whip fiercely at his back, leaving angry red marks and the occasional spot of blood. It took everything John had to not howl in pain, to keep up the vow he had made while lying in the very bed he was now forced over while a maniac lashed at his bare back. 

It was once the whip began to break the skin on every stroke that John allowed himself a single whimper, half-muffled by the mattress. Blood oozed down his back, which was by now a bloodied, broken mess. 

Bro was clearly not satisfied with Johns reaction, and there was a pause. Then he hit a button, and electricity was coursing through Johns veins again, and pain was everywhere, burning in his back and his neck and he could feel himself yelping and howling and screaming but it didnt feel real, it didnt feel like him, none of it felt like him it was all just pain and darkness and he was going to black out or die and no one would ever know what happened to him-

"Stop, you'll kill him!" came Dave's voice, over the top of the liquid fire running through Johns body. Thankfully, Bro seemed to listen, giving Johns back one last good thrash and his neck one last harsh shock. The immediate pain subsided, and John was left with an aching neck, twitching fingers and a back that probably looked as bad as it felt. 

"One last thing," Bro growled, and John felt himself tense up. He was flipped over, and the bloodied, mangled mess of his back connected with the sheets, forcing him to bite his lip hard to not whimper and break his promise to himself more. 

Pulling a knife out of his pocket, Bro smirked and twirled it between his fingers before tossing it to Dave, who caught it expertly. John felt like there was an entire desert in his mouth as he attempted to swallow his fear. "Name. Wherever you want. We gotta keep our pet remembering who he belongs to," Bro sneered, sending a raw wave of confusion and fear into Johns stomach at the word  _pet._

What the fuck were they going to do to him? He was completely at their mercy, too scared to speak or stand up for himself, and he was fairly sure even if he did it would fall on deaf ears. He would never belong to anyone. He... 

Johns thoughts trailed off as the tip of the blade pressed into the flesh of his chest. Dave began to work in quick, short strokes, each one adding to the searing pain John felt everywhere else. 

Eventually Dave stood back up, and when John looked down at himself, a new emotion rushed in, alongside the fear and confusion and sadness. Anger. It filled his head and his heart, his ears roaring with rage, and he didnt even think about what he was doing, just narrowed his eyes and glared at the two blonds before him. 

"I will  _never_ be your pet," John spat out, chest heaving with the exertion of talking. 

Bro smiled. He traced the all-caps STRIDER that Dave had carved into Johns chest, oozing a little bit of blood. "Oh, you'll come around," he said casually, as though it was the most natural thing in the universe. 

John continued to heave and glare. "No. I will never give up to the likes of you. I may follow commands easily but not from fucking psychopaths!"

Bro grunted, and in an instant his fist was being slammed into John's face. The dark-haired teen felt his face being punched and slapped, again and again, and didnt react, even though every instinct was telling him to. 

"You  _will_ submit to us," Bro grunted, fist slamming down with more force each time before Dave lay a warning hand on his arm, leading him slowly out the room, still furious.

John flipped back over to expose his back to the cool air and let out a breath he didnt know he had been holding, relaxing somewhat into the mattress. His arms ached from being cuffed but there wasn't much he could do about that, and besides, it was a meaningless pain compared to the fire in his back. 

He stayed like that for a very long time, trying not to sob, but eventually the pain in his back took over and he collapsed in on himself, crying for longer than he could keep track of. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: Mild sexual assault and fighting

John must have fallen asleep like that, face smushed into the mattress and arms outstretched, because when he woke up, there was a hand on his back. It was spreading some kind of cooling stuff across his wounds, simultaneously making him want to flinch away and lean in to the caress. He chose to tense cautiously, and the fingers must have noticed the change, because they withdrew. 

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," came a voice, and John wanted to flip out and run away, because it was Dave's voice. Of course it was Dave's voice. But his legs felt like they would buckle if he even so much tried to get up, so he settled for turning his head sideways to breathe properly and talk. 

"Can you uncuff my arms?" he asked miserably, because the ache was starting to get to him now. Dave nodded wordlessly and unlocked the painful cuffs, allowing John to stretch and move his arms again, a luxury that had been denied from him. They had been the kind with a bar between them, rather than a chain, restricting his movements even further than normal cuffs would have. 

He nodded a silent thanks, and drew his arms in on himself, not wanting to appear like he was going to attack, worry at what would happen if he did biting at him. The anger had all but disappeared, and now he was just sad, sad and lonely and in pain. 

For a moment, he looked down at the STRIDER crossing his chest, and held in a sigh. 

"May I have a shirt?" he asked timidly, wanting to cover up the painful brand across his chest. 

Dave shook his head slowly. "It would hurt your back injuries too much." John nodded resignedly at that - just brushing his back against the soft material of the bed was scream-worthy. "Speaking of your back injuries, can I continue treating them?"

John nodded, hardly believing that he was allowing Dave to touch him at all, and shuffled round to Dave's waiting hands. He picked at his nails as Dave began to spread some numbing lotion across the many cuts and bruises that littered his back. 

Dave was working silently, but that wasn't anything new. He always worked silently, or near-silently, unlike his brother who preferred to vocalise his feelings and anger. Dave was just... Indifferent. 

Eventually the working hands across his back stopped spreading medicines across his wounds and simply lingered, seemingly relishing in the feeling of the fingers against Johns battered body. John twisted around and was surprised to see a slight blush across Dave's face, the slender digits still brushing his bare skin. 

"What are you-" John began, before Dave leaned forward and connected their lips once more. Johns eyes widened in fear and shock, trying to pull away. Dave only leaned forward more, pushing himself onto the smaller teen until John was bent over backwards with Dave on top of him. Every time John attempted to push him away, Dave grabbed his wrists. Eventually, he pinned Johns wrists down, holding the teen to the floor as they kissed. 

John had never felt so disgusted, his lips being assaulted by what was essentially a stranger, not to mention his back was on fire from being pressed against the carpet - once so soft, now simply burning. It was humiliating, being pinned to the floor by the tall blond, their glasses clicking together as Dave forced himself upon the other. Not to  _mention,_ he wasn't gay, no matter what his friends chose to believe.

Dave didnt seem to see a problem, and after a few moments John felt a tongue snaking between his lips. He began to thrash about, having been passive before despite his disgust. One of his flailing limbs escaped Dave's grip and whacked Dave hard, sending his sunglasses flying, and John scrambled out of his grip while his attacker was distracted. 

Wiping his mouth as much as he could, John watched as Dave rubbed his eyes and squinted, looking up at John almost... longingly? John could've sworn the teens eyes were red, but he refused to believe it. Instead, he just chose to hold himself tensely, not knowing if Dave would lunge again. 

Closing his eyes, Dave sighed and reached for his sunglasses. Once they were firmly planted on his face again, he approached John with the guardedness one would approach a scared animal with, this time leaning in close to his ear, whispering and sending chills down Johns spine. 

"You should not have done that."

With those threatening words, Dave stood. John was at an angle which meant he could just about see where Dave's eyes were looking despite his dark shades, and it didnt make him comfortable as Dave roamed his eyes over the other boys body, as though searching for something. He restrained a sigh and moved to leave. 

"Wait!" John called, hardly believing that he was even asking it. Dave paused, not turning his head. "Uh... Could you... Explain some stuff to me?"

Dave stared off for a second before turning around. "What." he said flatly. It wasn't a question, but John took it as one. 

"I mean... I just wanna know where I am! And why!" As soon as he said it John regretted it, as Dave tensed up and didnt answer for a second. 

Eventually, the tall blonde returned to sit by John passively. He made no move towards him, for which John was eternally grateful, and began to speak in monotone. "It doesn't matter where you are. You're not gonna leave."

The smaller teens face fell at that, but he was unsurprised. He couldn't process the information any more though, because Dave was already moving on. "You're here because we brought you here."

"Yeah, I know that, but-"

Dave held up a hand to shush him, and continued. "You dont need to know the reason yet. It'll come to you soon enough."

Swallowing, John dared to ask another question. "Why are you so dead set on hurting me or kissing me?" he asked quietly, watching as Dave's face stiffened. 

"Hurting you is my brothers choice," the blond said coldly. "If it were up to me, I would never hurt a single hair on your head. If you want to know why you're being hurt, ask him."

 _I'd rather not,_ thought John, but chose not to vocalise it. 

"Kissing you is part of why we took you here in the first place. It's not important."

"It kind of is!" the brunet burst out. "If I'm getting assaulted by someone who's practically a stranger and fucking kidnapped me I want to know why!"

A muscle in Dave's jaw twitched, and John worried he might have crossed a line. But the taller boy said nothing, standing up again and going to leave. He motioned towards a plate with some sorry-looking pizza on top of the table as he left. 

"Eat," he said, calm as ever, but John was terrified that he had touched on a raw nerve. Dave didnt say anything else, just swept out of the room, a foreboding click indicating that he had probably locked the door. 

John stared after him for a few seconds, absentmindedly scrubbing his lips with his hand in order to rid himself of the feeling. "I'm not giving in, ever," he muttered to himself defiantly. "I'm gonna find a way out of here."

His back didnt feel as painful as it had a short while before, and for that he was grateful. He was glad that Dave had at least helped his back a little, but he still felt exposed without a shirt, even more so since Dave forced himself on him. 

A new perspective dawned on him as he sat. He was alone in a room, deep cuts lettering his skin, a shock collar digging into his neck, with probably cold pizza, wearing nothing but a pair of blue shorts. 

And he was fucking furious. 

* * *

Dave sighed, hand still lingering on the door handle. Against his own will, he had indeed locked the boy inside, as per Bro's wishes. He wanted to unlock it and open it again, keep talking to the beautiful teen. 

Instead he raised his hand to his lips, savouring the taste of John that still remained. The brunet's lips had been soft and intoxicatingly perfect, almost addictive. Dave wanted nothing more than to burst back in and keep kissing, let the taste of the boy he loved wash away the pain he had gone through and the life he lead. 

Instead he composed himself and thought about Johns reaction. The boy had seen his eyes, but likely thought the red was a trick of the light or some such. He wasn't too bothered about that. It was that John had struggled, had hit him, had demanded answers. The fire and fight still within the teen both excited and worried him. 

On the one hand, John wasn't giving in, and Dave always liked a challenge. But on the other, there was Bro. The disobedience John was showing was sure to anger him, push him to hurt John even more, make him suffer. 

Dave didnt understand why John couldn't just accept his situation.  _He_ had, a long time ago, so it caused anger and fear to bubble in his stomach at the thought of John not doing the same, being here against his will instead of because he wanted to. 

Of course, Dave didnt want to be here either, but he'd rather he had John than he left. He may have emotions (very much hidden, but still there underneath his missing morals and no sense of humanity) but he knew he'd never make it in society, so here he must stay, and when he finally snapped and lost his mind he had accepted that fully. He didnt even know why his mind was bringing it up now. 

Walking away quickly to distract himself, Dave considered what he could do on a slow, lazy afternoon like this. There were some victims awaiting death and/or torture, but he wasn't sure how Bro wanted them offed, and if he wanted to dispose of them he'd have to confront the older man. There were some people he had been instructed to follow and watch, but none held the same motivating charm John did. 

Actually, nothing held the same motivating charm John did. 

Stopping in his tracks, Dave tapped his left hand with his right index finger three times exactly, before spinning on his heel and returning to Johns room. 

He could hear angered yells from inside, accompanied by the sound of fabric ripping and wood being broken. Unlocking the door as quickly as was humanly possible, Dave flung it open and stood there in shock, dropping the key to the floor with a clink. 

The room had been almost completely destroyed. The duvet had been ripped into shreds, the bedframe snapped, and the whirlwind of a boy was currently working on the living area. Chairs were overturned and the coverings torn, exposing stuffings and wooden frames, most of which were splintered or smashed. The table was overturned, the plate of pizza smashed and strewn across the floor. When Dave looked over at the bathroom, he could see that the door was ripped off it's hinges, the cabinet on the wall currently... off the wall. 

John sat in the middle of the chaos, working on tearing apart another chair. He was using his nails and pure rage to cause all this destruction, and it took a moment for his bubble of rage to notice Dave had entered. 

When he did, his head snapped up, lips twisted into a snarl. Before Dave could react, John was off the floor and leaping at him, still snarling. 

In a split second Dave was on the floor of the hallway, pinned down by the weight of the boy on top of him. He could feel genuine fear at the pure anger filling Johns blue eyes, glasses almost sliding off the teens nose. 

Dave couldn't even sense when one of Johns arms retracted and pulled back. He only felt it when all of Johns anger was directed in a fist straight to the face. 

He cried out, sunglasses dislodging. John noticed it and ripped off the shades, snapping them brutally in half and tossing the two halves aside. The blond watched them fall in complete shock, but he didnt have any time to think before John returned to punching him in the face. 

Eventually Dave was heaving, unable to fathom what was happening, let alone fight back. Blood trickled out of the corners of his mouth and his eyes were puffy, and John showed no signs of relenting. 

Until there was the sound of footsteps from around the corner. 

Johns head shot up and he barrelled back into his room like a rocket, but not before grabbing something from the floor. He shut the door immediately with a click. Dave was left in total shock on the floor, staring at the ceiling. The bright light hurt his eyes as his shades lay beside him, and everything ached from the brutality of Johns attack. 

"Dave?" came Bro's voice, and then the footsteps were close to his head, his brother leaning over his unfocused eyes. "What the fuck happened?"

Dave held out a hand to be helped up and Bro complied, pulling Dave back to a standing position. "I was checking on John," he began, sounding dazed. "He's destroyed almost everything in his room and when I opened the door he started attacking me. He got the jump. And he broke my sunglasses."

Bro toed the broken shades, glaring at the closed door, behind which John undoubtedly whimpered. "That little rat," he muttered. "I'll teach him a lesson!"

He went to open the door, but it wasn't budging. "Key," the man demanded, holding out a hand to Dave, but when Dave patted his pocket he felt nothing. 

"I think..." Dave began, and trailed off. Fucking hell. John had the key. 

Bro somehow understand and an inhuman growl escaped his throat. He slammed his weight against the door once, presumably to intimidate the boy, before he turned and walked away. 

"Wait until he gets hungry," Bro muttered, a smirk crossing his lips. "Then we'll get him."

Dave followed, after picking up the broken pieces of his shades. He was shaken and bruised, but the anger of his brother filled him with something he couldn't place. 

"You need new sunglasses," was all Bro said, and Dave nodded, scurrying after him with only one backwards glance to Johns door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh wouldja lookit that, Dave has feelings
> 
> Man idk where this fic is going but I hope its being enjoyed because it's v fun to write, stuff like this has always been my favourite
> 
> Yeet leave kudos n comments if you wanna they make my day yo


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence (possibly the most graphic chapter yet)

In truth, John Egbert was not cowering behind the locked door like the Striders believed. The slam against the door had made him a little apprehensive, but he was too exhilarated from taking out his anger on one of his captors to be truly scared again. 

He was hungry, though. 

The pizza Dave had set out was still laying on the floor, and when he poked it it seemed to be alright, so he ate that and tried to ignore the nagging feeling that told him he shouldn't to show his defiance. He pushed down the thought, telling himself that he had been perfectly defiant. He had beat Dave up and broke his shades, and if that wasn't an act of rebellion he didnt know what was. 

When he got thirsty, he drank from the tap, and after a while he thought about Dave's eye colour. Like he had initially thought, they did indeed seem to be red. 

 _Like the devil,_ he thought, smirking to himself. The little joke helped cheer him up, unfunny as it might have been. It helped him feel like himself again. 

He did regret his actions just a tiny bit when it came to his injuries. There was no soothing medicine to lessen the pain this time, just the pain of his own sweat trickling into the cuts. He still wished he had a shirt. 

He didnt know how much time had passed when he eventually got too hungry to think straight. He had been filling the ache in his belly with water from the tap for probably a few days, but after a while the hunger gnawed at him in a way he could only fill with food. He hadn't heard anything from the brothers holding him prisoner, not even footsteps passing him by. The time had been spent falling in and out of tired, hungry, unfulfilling sleeps and wandering around, thinking about friends and family. It was boring, and sad, and he was hungry. 

John figured it had probably been a week and a bit since he flipped out, considering he had zero sense of time in the room. There were no clocks, and no windows, and he didnt have his phone or anything. However, any extra weight he carried on his body had all but disappeared, leaving him skinny and fucking starving. He couldn't tell if the weight loss was from no food, or stress, or both. Probably both. 

Eventually his will began to crumble, and he gathered up all of his confidence, ready to face whatever came his way. The cuts on his back had finally healed, and he figured he was ready for whatever punishment Bro doled out. 

Speaking of punishments, the burns around his neck were starting to heal too, and he had all but forgotten the collar. It felt normal to him now, which he knew it shouldn't, but there was no way to take it off. The door key didnt unlock it - he had tried. So he was stuck with getting used to it, and he was just glad that Bro hadn't turned it on at any point during his confinement. 

Shaking himself out of the daze, John gripped the key hard, and let himself out. The air in the hallway had never felt so nice, after being cooped up in a stuffy room with no windows for god knows how long. 

There was no sign of the brothers, and John took a deep breath, sneaking along the corridor as quietly as he could. 

After a little while, he felt a squelch beneath his toes, and looked down in disgust. A thick red liquid seeped out from underneath the doorway, creating a puddle under his feet. He gagged, the smell and feel of it disgusting. 

Half curious about where the blood was coming from and half disgusted, John stared at the door for a long time, longer than was probably safe for him trying to sneak around. Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him, and he pushed the door open just a crack. 

The sight almost made him throw up on the spot, and he would've lost his appetite if he wasn't so goddamn hungry. 

Blood spilled from a body that was chained to a hook on the ceiling. They were hanging like a piece of meat, blood and bruises littering their body. They were dressed, thankfully, in tattered rags, and had a collar much like the one John had around their neck. Their back was turned, so John couldn't see their face, but he presumed it wasn't a pretty sight. 

He stood, transfixed on the sight before him, disgusted. Eventually there was a whimper from the body in front of him and he jolted, having thought they were dead. 

Before he could move forward and get them down, though, a hand enclosed his shoulder. John looked up in fear, and sure enough, Bro stood there, face not betraying an inch of emotion. 

"So you're curious, huh?" he said, emotionless, and John was frozen. The body whimpered again, seemingly about to speak, before Bro strode over and grabbed her shoulder with his other hand, dragging John behind him. He spun her round and John stared at her face. 

It was a mess of bruises and cuts, but he would recognise that face anywhere. Black hair framed her face and cracked glasses sat on her crooked nose, and she looked at John with recognition sparking in her green eyes. 

"Jade..?" he spoke quietly, and she simply made a wordless sound of recognition. John couldn't say anything else, though, because he was being shoved into a chair and chained there, eyes still glued to his best friends face. 

"Everyone's... looking... for you..." Jade croaked out, coughing with the exertion of speaking. Johns eyes widened and filled with tears. "Thought.... dead...."

"Shut it, you," Bro said coldly, whacking her in the stomach with a baseball bat. She cried out, blood escaping her mouth, and tears escaping her eyes. John cried out as well in sympathy for her pain, his eyes wet. 

"Since you're so curious," Bro continued cruelly, a crooked smirk on his face. Johns eyes snapped to him. "You'll see what happens to those who disobey us."

John could only shake his head as Bro slammed the baseball bat into Jade's body, again and again. Sickening cracks came from her broken form, and she was crying out with every hit. 

"This... little... brat.." the man continued, punctuating every word with a brutal hit. "was looking for you. And she ran into us. Isn't that a turn of fortune?"

"No..." John whispered, tears streaming down his face.

"Turns out there's a little rescue mission out for you!" Bro said, too cheerfully. He dropped the baseball bat, blood dripping from it and his hands, before walking over to a cupboard John hadn't noticed. The two brunets eyes met, and John had never seen so much fight in someone so in pain and beaten. 

Bro returned, spinning a knife between his calloused fingers, and began to trace parts of Jade's body. He wasn't pressing hard enough to break the skin, but it was hard enough to make Jade wince. 

"Stop..." John tried to get out, but his throat was constricted by something stronger than physical pain. He knew Bro wouldn't have listened anyway. 

"But don't worry," Bro said calmly. "They'll never find you. We'll make sure of that."

And then he plunged the knife deep into Jade's chest. 

The scream that tore from her throat was guttural and inhuman, sending tears flooding down both the brunets faces. Bro carefully dragged the knife downwards, opening up Jade's body and exposing her organs. 

Once he had dragged the knife down to just below her belly button, he tossed it aside and used his hands to rip her skin open. 

Jade's breathing was scratchy, and as he tore open her belly another scream pulled itself from her throat, before dying off. Her face was full of fear, tear tracks clear on her beaten flesh, but John could see that her chest was no longer moving. She was dead. 

Before John could do anything, his body reacted on instinct, letting out a scream almost as animalistic as Jade's. Tears rushed down his cheeks, and he had never been in so much pain, even when he had been whipped and shocked. This pain felt much worse. 

His head fell, but Bro walked over and forced his head up with a bloodied hand. He realised he was to be forced to watch, and out of fear kept his head up. 

Bro plunged his hands deep into Jade's body, shoving aside her organs until he got a hold of her intestines, pulling them out of her body with sickening sounds. He took a long time, clearly to torture John emotionally, until he had her entire intestines in his hands. He used the knife to remove them from her other organs, and walked threateningly over to John, the brunets best friends guts still in his hands. 

John only had a second to worry what he was going to do with them before Jade's guts were draped around his neck and shoulders like some sick necklace. He almost vomited, but held it in to retain the tiniest bit of rebellion. Bro clearly wanted him to vomit or faint. He was going to do neither. 

"Strong stomach, hm?" Bro asked amusedly, confirming Johns theory that he wanted him to vomit. "Lets add another one."

True to his word, Bro retrieved Jade's stomach from her lifeless body and balanced it on Johns lap, making him swallow down the tiniest bit of vomit. He didnt even have anything to throw up. 

Bro went back and forth like that for a while, decorating John like a Christmas tree with his best friends organs. Jade had been like a sister to him, and he was sure that Bro knew that. This was torturing John mentally, worse than any pain the man could inflict on the teen. 

Eventually, Jade had been all but cleaned out, and John looked like some fucked up decoration for a Halloween party. There was one organ left, though, and Bro forced John to hold out his hands for the last one. 

Carefully, almost fondly, Bro placed Jade's heart on Johns open palms. 

Staring down at it, John felt emotions rush at him from all directions. Fury, terror, pure devastation. He couldn't handle it, and his stomach finally gave in, forcing him to twist round and vomit hard on the floor, nothing but bile coming up. 

There was silence for a long time, John draped in the vital organs of his best friend and Bro smirking to himself. 

"You hungry?" the maniac finally spoke. John didnt respond, eyes still fixed to Jade's heart. 

"Answer me." Bro growled, and John absentmindedly nodded. He wasn't expecting to be unchained and dragged up, but thats what happened. Most of the organs fell off him, but the intestines remained twisted around his neck, soaking blood into his skin, and the heart remained in his palms. Much as it disgusted him, he couldn't bring himself to put it down. 

Bro led him out of the room, not allowing him to look back at Jade's body, still chained to the hook. John stumbled a little as he was led along, his body not working properly in response to his mind screaming. 

Eventually they reached a kitchen, and Bro forced John down into yet another chair, this time at a table. "What do you want?" he asked, opening cupboards. John remained silent. 

A fist was slammed down onto the table in front of him and he squeaked in surprise, head snapping away from the heart in his palms to look at Bro. "I said," the man scowled. "what do you  _want?"_

"I.. I... C... Cereal..." John stuttered out. He placed the heart down in front of him and looked about for a sink to wash his hands of blood. Bro was seemingly busied with making a bowl of cereal, so he tried pushing the chair out and standing to wash his hands, but in a split second Bro was standing beside him, shoving him back down onto the chair and slamming a bowl in front of him. 

"Can I wash my hands?" John asked quietly. "P-please..?"

Bro shook his head, thrusting the spoon into John's bloodied fist. "Eat." he commanded, before disappearing from the room. 

John felt like he would never be able to eat after what he had seen, but his stomach gave a twinge and he began to eat hungrily, his body gripping his first bit of nourishment after who knows how long. 

The image still lingered in his mind, but he tried to push it away for fear of throwing up the precious food he had. Once he had finished the cereal, the ache in his stomach hadn't gone away, and he looked around guiltily before eating practically everything and washing his hands of the blood. He abandoned his intestine necklace at the first opportunity, curling it around the heart.

Only once his gnawing hunger was sated did he allow himself to sit and think about everything that had just happened, careful to keep away from the organs still on the side and keep the imagery out of his mind so he didnt ruin his bravery in raiding the kitchen. 

 _People are looking for me,_ he thought, and hope pooled in his chest. People hadn't just passed his disappearance off as a fluke. They were actually looking for him. They were trying to find him. 

His hope dissipated when he thought of Jade. If thats what his captors were willing to do to his friends for trying to find him, he almost wished that they wouldn't try to find him at all. Because now, no doubt, they would note that Jade had disappeared and double their efforts to try and find the two of them. 

He couldn't handle the thought of Jade's fate happening to all his friends and family. It was bad enough that it had happened to a girl he considered his sister.

Tears began to pool again, and he scrubbed at them angry. He missed his life more than words could say. He couldn't let everyone he knew die in an attempt to save him. 

It was only once Bro returned, yelled at him for raiding the kitchen without permission, tore the key from his shorts pocket and dragged him back to his room, only to lock him in, that John made a decision. 

He would either have to escape or let his captors break him. Anything to stop his friends being killed. Anything to get them to be merciful towards those he knew. He would do anything. 

Anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well then
> 
> this was,, rlly fun to write yet again. 
> 
> ive got ideas now and im actually motivated to write this who knew  
> well as motivated as my depressed ass can get
> 
> woohoo


	6. Intermission 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's worth noting that in this fic Bro is like,, a weird blend of Bro and Dirk, but probably mainly Dirk  
> Idk it felt worthy to mention
> 
> Time to see what the fuck is up with the others
> 
> Also, compliments and stuff are lovely, I lov, please keep them coming  
> BUT im so sorry if you like the way the fic is going and then I fuck it up aaaah  
> I hope you all keep reading bc this is rlly fun to write and I hope I dont disappoint
> 
> Comments and compliments really do make my day though I thrive on positive feedback  
> That's a lie I never know how to take compliments  
> But if you have something nice (or constructively critical) to say go ahead and say it I really would love it
> 
> Kankri warnings: Uh... Not much for this chapter, really. I guess non-graphic self harm (it's rlly not bad in the slightest) and general depression and grief

The hunt for John was not going well, to say the least. 

His father was inconsolable, having not baked since his son had disappeared. He was barely able to function, and Jane had moved in to help look after him, although she was struggling with her cousins disappearance just as much as the rest of them. 

Rose was seemingly composed about the situation, but everyone close to her knew she was more torn up inside than she had ever been. Her sister Roxy was in a similar situation, although her grief was much more obvious, the devastated blonde openly sobbing half the time. Both were dealing with it in a way they shouldn't - drinking until the pain was gone. For Roxy it was a returning habit, and for Rose it was new, but safe to say it wasn't healthy for either of them. 

Jade was probably the most immediately devastated, second only to Johns father. After the first few days, though, her sadness had turned into determination, while Dad Egbert's had turned into depression and the Lalonde's had turned into alcoholism. 

Jade was going to get John back if it killed her.

Her cousin was just as determined, even though he hadn't known John quite as well. The Harley/English cousins were always up for a spot of mystery and adventure, and both were dying to uncover where their missing friend had gone. 

That was, until Jade had found a lead, sending her flying off in pursuit, leaving behind only a note telling them where she had gone and sending her love. 

She never returned. 

All the remaining teens were, understandably, terrified. Now both of their friends had gone missing, and Jake had spiralled into an abyss of depression and self-loathing, all motivation lost now his cousin was gone. 

They were in mourning, all dealing with it in their own separate ways. Jane baked and cooked 24/7, turning out dish after dish that no one touched until they rotted. Rose and Roxy drank themselves half to death, the former crying at night when she was sure no one could hear and the latter crying wherever the pain got particularly bad. Jake fell into a whirlpool of his own mind, disappearing for days on end before reappearing, his face red from crying and scars littering his wrists and thighs. 

Nothing was the same without John and Jade there. 

Thanks to the note Jade had left, though, they had an idea of where to go. They had an idea of how to recover their missing friends, had they not already been brutally murdered with their organs ripped out and used as decorations or some fucked up shit like that. 

None of them were willing to pursue the lead after Jade had vanished. Once upon a time, Jake would've been the first to volunteer, but now no one could even find him for days at a time. None of the others were going to volunteer, either, fear pulling them back. Guilt chipped away at them just as much, though, and not one of them knew how to react or respond to the situation they had found themselves in. 

In Johns class, eyes were no longer fixed to his seat because he had disrupted the class. They were fixed there because he wasn't there at all. 

Dad Egbert no longer got his son calling goodbye to him in the mornings - he occasionally got Jane, when she had to leave to buy things, but she had skipped out on school entirely at this point to look after her uncle full time. 

None of them could handle it. Life sucked, in essence. 

* * *

 

Jane just wanted their old life back. 

"Jane," Dad croaked out one evening, after Jane had brought him his nightly cup of tea, that night after night sat untouched. 

"Yes, Uncle?" Jane replied, summoning up everything she had to force a smile onto her face. It seemed to cheer her uncle a little, seeing her smile, and that was enough to make the effort worth it. 

"Do you think he's..." Dad trailed off, staring down at his tea. Speculation had been going around the town that John was dead, and it wasn't a new rumour, but it was news to Dad's ears, the man having stayed inside near permanently since his sons disappearance. 

Jane took a deep breath. She never liked thinking about these things. "I dont think he's dead, Uncle," she replied, and some hope flickered in Dad's eyes. "I feel like we'd feel it if he was."

Dad nodded, seemingly satisfied, and Jane took that as her cue to leave. She did so as hastily as she could without seeking rude, doubts flickering in her mind as to the life of her cousin. 

She made her way to the piano and trailed her fingers across it, taking a deep breath. Beginning to play a haunting refrain, Jane poured out her heart and soul into the piano, allowing tears to slide down her cheeks for the first time she could remember. She always tried to put on a brave face for her uncle, but she couldn't remember the last time she had smiled of her own accord and not to cheer someone else up. 

It was exhausting, and her fingers soon stilled at the mental tiredness. She was perfectly aware she couldn't keep up her behaviour, but nothing she told herself would let her stop. 

Instead, she just tried to make everyone else happy, make them feel some hope in the desolate wasteland their lives had fallen into.

Jane Crocker was in pain, and terrified, and exhausted, and she forced herself to keep going, in the hope that someday her cousin would miraculously return. 

* * *

Speaking of hope, Jake English had lost all of his. 

Both his cousin and her best friend had gone missing, and he believed them to be dead. For days, he would wander into the forest, sitting by rivers and crying until his head swam. He hurt himself when the pain got too much to bear, before curling into himself and sobbing at how selfish he was being. 

He couldn't even find solace in his guns anymore, as every shot reminded him of Jade. Everything reminded him of Jade, to be honest. She had been his best friend, his calm in the storm, his rock in the waves, and now he was washing away in the current. 

Jake was perfectly aware that his constant disappearances were probably just making his friends worry more, but sometimes he wondered if getting himself killed would be better. At least they could be sure that his useless ass wasn't gonna come crawling back. 

"I'm so sorry, Jade," he whispered to himself, sitting by the same river he visited most frequently. He remembered coming here with Jade quite often, which was probably what kept drawing him here again and again. "I'm too fucking weak and selfish to even come and find out for good if you're alive or dead."

At this point, Jake was considering just offing himself in the woods, finally ridding the others of his useless existence. At least then they could focus on what was important instead of worrying when he was going to show up and make everything worse again. 

When he wasn't contemplating suicide, Jake was simply hating every inch of himself. He was too selfish, too lazy, too unmotivated, too boring, too cowardly, too weak. And he hated it. He wished he could be like Jane, who put on a brave face even though she must be dying inside, or like Rose, who remained calm and composed even at her worst, or even Roxy, who was at least open about how she felt. He just ran and hid until he could even consider showing his face again. 

Jake English was self-destructive, and suicidal, and he had lost all sight of the light. 

* * *

Rose wasn't taking it any better than the rest of them, and she certainly couldn't see any light in the situation despite her impenetrable calm. 

She spent her time knitting scarves in Johns favourite shades of green and blue, and reading books only featuring characters named John. 

Oh, and drinking until her body gave out and she threw up or fainted or both. 

Her drunkenness had become the norm, along with her sisters, and their neglectful mother couldn't care less about the state of her daughters, or at least thats how it seemed to them. In truth, their mother was the reason alcohol often disappeared from their shared stash after mother "cleaned", and why the occasional leaflet for rehab and dealing with grief appeared on their beds. 

Rose ignored all of this, of course, sipping martinis and vodka until she almost impaled herself with a knitting needle. It was only then that she realised alcohol and knitting didnt mix, and put aside the needles in favour of the numbing elixir that made everything okay until the stupor wore off. 

"Rose..?" she heard one afternoon, and was shocked to see her mother looking concernedly at her. 

"Mom?" she responded, her words ever so slightly slurred. Her mother's eyebrows knitted together, and it was only then that it clicked. Mom Lalonde was worried about her daughters. Rose felt like a bitch for not realising it before. 

Noticing tears pooling in her eldest daughters eyes, Mom held out her arms soothingly. Rose allowed herself to be encased in the hug. 

"Ssh, sweetie. It's okay," Mom whispered, running a comforting hand through Roses hair as the teen hiccuped and sobbed. Everything was so hard to deal with, and the overwhelming realisation that her mother had noticed was too much for the blonde teen. 

She normally only cried at night where no one but Roxy would hear, but this felt different, like she could finally let things go in a space that wasn't dark and foreboding. Everything hurt, so badly. 

Rose Lalonde was trying to be brave, and being oblivious to family, and the world had turned into a void of confusion and sadness.

* * *

Roxy felt like a void herself half the time. Like she wasn't really there, like she was just a fake, a duplicate put in to replace the real Roxy, back when John was first taken. 

So she didnt care who saw her crying, who saw her sobbing like a drunken mess on the sidewalk, who was forced to step over her slumped body once she had passed out from grief and alcohol. She didnt care in the slightest. 

She regretted every drop of alcohol she consumed, knowing with a twinge of guilt every time that she was only returning to habits she had broken herself out of a long time ago. Everything had been going well, but then her life had crashed and burned with her friends disappearances. 

She was possibly the most active out of all of them, genuinely making an effort to get them rallied and moving to retrieve their friends. None of them even considered the possibility of calling the police and allowing them to handle it until much later. They were all too overcome. 

That said, Roxy was half the time working to get them motivated, and the other half the time she was a bawling mess. Her friends didnt seem to appreciate when she was working harder than any of them, simply remembering the times she was inconsolably drunk. 

"Rose?" Roxy tried, one afternoon. Rose had her back turned, nose in a book, but Roxy knew that her sister wasn't actually reading. 

"Rose," she said again, persistently, and Rose only drew the book closer to her nose. Roxy sighed and decided to spew her emotional bullshit anyway. 

"It's so hard, Rose," she said quietly, and Rose seemed to realise that her sister was sober for the first time in god knew how long. Rose was slightly drunk, but hey, what else was new. 

"It's so hard to keep going," Roxy continued. "I'm trying my best to get you all motivated, but no one seems to want to do anything... so now we're just alcoholics and Jake's probably off killing himself and Janey is working herself half to death and it's so.... It's so...."

Roxy's face crumpled, and she turned away before Rose could react. She hurried off, cursing internally for unloading her emotion garbage on her sister. Of course it was hard, it was hard for all of them. 

Roxy had never felt worse about herself or anything else. She was trying her hardest but it wasn't good enough, it was never good enough, it was always too unnecessary or bad or useless. 

Roxy Lalonde was trying her best, and emotional, and life had lost all meaning. 

* * *

And Jane just wanted their old life back. 

It wasn't long before all of them decided, together, to hold a meeting of sorts, and talk a little bit about what was happening. 

It was one of the rare occasions that Jake was actually not in the forest, and neither of the Lalonde's were flat out wasted. They held the meeting at Jane's house - well, John's house, but none of them liked to think about that - at her request, as she liked to look after her uncle at all times. It gave her something to think about. 

"So," Rose began, proper as always. 

"So," Jake agreed, his head downturned. 

"Plan of action?" Roxy began. She was happier than she had been in a long time that her friends were genuinely coming together to do  _something._

"I think we should just talk some stuff out. I'm not sure we all know how the others are feeling?" Jane continued, chewing at her bottom lip nervously as she glanced at the stairs. The second she heard Dad Egberts voice she was off like a rocket, shooting up the stairs and not returning for longer than was probably necessary. None of them blamed her. They wanted out just as much. 

Rose sighed, realizing she would likely have to begin the proceedings. "Well, I'm sure you all know how I feel."

"Emotional wreck, holding it all in to not worry us or embarrass yourself?" Roxy guessed, and Rose gave a wordless sound of approval. 

"Jake? Jane asked, returning from one of her trips upstairs. "What about you?"

Jake shrugged. "It's pretty obvious," he said hollowly. 

"Mhm."

They fell to silence, the tension between them so strong you could feel it. All four - three, most of the time, as Janey came in and out the room - sat awkwardly on what used to be John's couch. Rose sipped delicately at a vodka cocktail, while Roxy swallowed straight from the vodka bottle. Jake picked at scars on his wrists and avoided eye contact. Jane shot up and down the stairs, embarrassed by the sudden silence. Eventually, one of them broke it. 

"THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS!" Roxy yelled, slamming her fists down on her thighs. 

"Roxy!" Rose hissed, putting a calming hand on her sisters arm. The other blonde simply threw it off and stood up, drawing all their attention even further. 

"WE CANT JUST SIT AROUND AND WALLOW IN OUR OWN FUCKING SADNESS ALL THE TIME!" she continued, properly pissed. "JANE IS WORKING HERSELF TO DEATH," Jane came into the room just then and flushed. She knew it was true, she had been working too hard on trivial things like cooking. "JAKE IS PROBABLY JUST GONNA STRAIGHT UP OFF HIMSELF ONE OF THESE DAYS," and Jake turned red and buried his face in his hands. He didnt want to admit it, but he thought she was right. "AND WE AREN'T EXACTLY THE EPITOME OF HEALTH, ARE WE ROSE?" and it was her sisters turn to blush embarrassedly. 

"SO INSTEAD OF FUCKING SITTING AROUND LIKE LAZY ASSHOLES WHO DONT CARE, WHY DONT WE ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING? LIKE JADE DID??"

At the mention of the girls name, Roxy flushed herself and sat down quickly. Jake lifted his head and began to speak hollowly, one of the first times he had spoken since his cousin vanished. It was jarring for the others to hear. The spark in his voice that was just... so Jake was gone. He didnt even use any of his ridiculous old-timey phrases. 

"Because Jade is dead." he said bluntly. "She got herself killed, and she isn't coming back. It's as simple as that. You should all just accept it. I have."

And with that, he fell silent again. None were brave enough to mention John, or even talk after Roxy's outburst and Jake's statement. Jane's and Rose's eyes met, and both knew they were thinking the same thing. 

Something had to be done, but none of them were doing anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was probably the saddest so far imo  
> I certainly found it sad while writing it
> 
> I love them all pls,, dont b sad bbys


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence

"Dealt with the brat," Bro spat as he pushed past Dave, who was wearing his newly delivered sunglasses and eating pizza. 

"What did you do?" Dave asked, mouth full and pizza sauce dripping down his chin. Bro grimaced and grabbed a slice, sitting down on the couch next to his brother. 

"He ran out - hungry, like I told you - and the blood from the girl made him curious so he walked in, like I thought he would, so I showed him what we do to snoops and spies here."

"Wait." Dave finished his mouthful, putting down the pizza. "Which girl?"

Bro shrugged, eating his slice of pizza. "I dunno, she had black hair and glasses. When I caught her she said something about looking for John. Think she said her name was Jade or some shit like that."

"Fuck." What little colour had been on Dave's face was quickly drained. "That's Jade. She's his best friend. Like, basically his sister."

Bro shrugged again. "So?"

"So, you've probably emotionally traumatised him beyond repair! What did you do to her?"

Shoving the rest of the pizza into his mouth, Bro started to think. "Well, I roughed her up a bit before he got there, so she was pretty bloodied and bruised at that point. Surprised he recognised her. Anyway, once he was there I chained him down and duffed up the girl a bit with the baseball bat. Then I did the old chest-to-stomach slice and pulled out the organs. She was dead by the time I cut her open, so its not like I was pulling her still alive organs out of her body. He overreacted."

"That's his best friend!" Dave cried, brow furrowing. Bro raised one thick eyebrow. "Of course he's going to react badly! Please tell me you didnt decorate him with her organs like you always do."

Bro snickered, and Dave dropped his head into his hands. 

"Well, where is he now?" Dave asked after a little while, slapping Bro's hand away as he tried to take more pizza. Bro simply slapped his hand back and grabbed a slice anyway. 

"In his room," he said after a moment. "The little twerp raided a kitchen so I dragged him back and locked him in. We've got the key now. No more rats running around the building." Bro sniggered at that, clearly pleased with himself. 

"You gotta go try to repair the damage!"

Bros face turned stony. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you're gonna kill him." Dave knew he was toeing the line here, but he would do anything to have John alive and by his side once Bro had broken him in and trained him. 

Bro scowled, and Dave could've sworn an honest-to-god wolflike growl escaped his lips. "I'll do whatever I want. He's my pet. Dont forget who's in charge here."

"You wouldn't even know who he was if it wasn't for me!"

"Yes, and I've been an exceptionally good Bro and allowed you to even look at him. I orchestrated the whole taking - he's  _mine._ "

"No he's fucking not!"

"YES," Bro spat, "he  _is._ "

Dave took a deep breath. He was making Bro angry, and started tapping his left hand with his right index, like he always did when he was stressed or angry or needed to think. It was his own little weird coping mechanism - because Striders didnt cry, or whine, or anything. His little hand-tapping was just his little way to survive, and Bro knew that. 

Behind his shades, Bro's eyes dropped down to Dave's hands, indeed remembering Dave's coping technique. His eyes flicked back up to Dave's face, and he smirked, as though daring Dave to say more. 

Dave took a shuddering breath, and his hand stilled, although it was itching to keep tapping away. "You dont even fucking care about him. You just want to spite me."

Something snapped inside the adult Strider, and he stood up, pulling Dave up with him. The forgotten pizza fell to the floor, along with Johns rooms key (a fact not unnoticed by the younger brother), and Bro began to pull his brother along the halls until they found a familiar doorway. Dave paled. 

"In you go," Bro called, pushing him in the room. Dave could hear the smirk in his voice. 

The room was red, stained with blood and suffering, and in the centre of it a wooden block stood, leather straps ready to strap down whatever was laid upon it. On the wall an assortment of knives and axes hung, all of them bloodstained and sharp. 

Dave felt himself go weak as he was led to the block, his right hand laid across it like he had seen Bro do to so many other people. He had never thought he would be in their situation. 

Bro roughly strapped down his wrist and fingers, leaving his index finger free. With a marker seemingly produced from nowhere, Bro drew a dotted line along the very base of Dave's finger, right down at where the webbing connected it to his other fingers. 

Dave suddenly felt sick to his stomach as Bro pocketed the marker and strolled to his array of sharp objects. He selected what appeared to be the most brutal one, and Dave was horrified at the thought of Bro sawing away at his finger until there was nothing left. 

Bro returned, weapon in hand, and placed the blade down upon the dotted line. "Say who's in charge, and you can keep your finger," he offered, a sick smile twisting his lips. 

Dave glared, but cold sweat broke out all down his back. "Never," he said in a voice far more confident than he felt, and Bro shrugged casually.

"Suit yourself," the adult said, and pressed the blade down into Dave's finger. 

The blond teen had a high pain tolerance from being broken by Bro at a young age, but this was the freshest, harshest pain he had felt in a while. The knife sawed down on his flesh, but Bro was nothing if not efficient. Before long, the knife was right down to Dave's bone, and the younger teen was breathing heavily, covered in a layer of sweat. 

"If you say it now, I'll stop here," Bro offered yet again, and Dave gritted his teeth. 

"Just get it over with," he spat, and Bro snickered.

In one swoop, Bro snapped through the bone and the remaining flesh, and Dave's finger rolled away from his hand, blood oozing from both stumps. Dave was shaking, but he still looked up and met Bros eyes defiantly.

"Now," Bro said softly, too softly. "Who's in charge."

It wasn't a question, but Dave knew he was demanding an answer. He was about to retort something sarcastic and witty, but something inside him stopped it. Instead, he held in a sigh and spoke. "You are."

"You are, what?"

This was embarrassing. "You are,  _sir,_ " Dave managed, teeth gritted. Bro took it and grinned. 

"Very good."

Bro undid the straps and allowed Dave to pull his wounded hand towards him, leaving the finger on the block for whatever Dave wanted to do with it. He was rather generous, he thought to himself. 

"Never," Bro purred, in a voice even more sickeningly crooning than the last. "forget that."

His teeth brushed Dave's ear as he leaned in to say those last few words, and the teen had to physically stop himself from shuddering. Instead, he glared from behind his shades and watched as Bro exited the room. 

He allowed himself a single dry sob, before scooping up his finger and shoving it into his pocket, telling himself he'd dispose of it later. It felt weird, knowing he had a detached part of his hand in his pocket - it felt weird that there was a detached part of him at all. 

Pushing aside the emotions that had gathered behind his cool façade, Dave wondered if John was okay, and disappeared quickly from the room to check on his love - because no matter what Bro insisted, John was  _his._

* * *

John was in a bad state. He no longer even had a bed to crawl into, or a bathroom he could shut himself in, or anything to sit on except for the floor. He somewhat regretted his actions, but the feeling of destroying anything belonging to his captors was too exhilarating to even properly regret. Whenever he looked at the destruction a flash of pride ran through him - alongside the regret, of course. 

That didnt change the fact that he was bored and lonely, and his own mind wasn't helping. It kept providing him with unhelpful images of his friends, dead or tortured or captured like him. He couldn't stand it, and he was desperate to tell them not to worry, to keep themselves safe. 

He looked at himself in the mirror, and sighed. Many of his wounds had cleared, and he was grateful to the time alone for that. White scars still spelled out STRIDER on his chest, and red scars still crisscrossed his back, and of course burn scars still ringed his neck, many of them blocked by the collar. 

 _How long has it been?_ he wondered idly, tugging at the collar like he always did. Everything ached, but that wasn't new. He hadn't slept properly in what was probably weeks by now. 

A gentle knock at the door shocked him. He hadn't heard something that quiet and gentle since he was at home. 

"Come... in?" John asked, eyebrows knitting together. If this was a ploy to get him to lower his guard, he didnt know how to feel. He'd rather like for it just to be his captors being nice, for once. 

The door opened, and John was even more confused when he remembered that they had the key. Couldn't they just have barged in here? Regardless, he crept out of the bathroom, not wanting to elicit anger. 

Dave came in, standing awkwardly by the door. He seemed to be trying to tap his left hand, but something felt wrong, and when John looked down he noticed that Dave was missing his index finger, which made him take a step back. If his  _captor_ was getting hurt, what the hell did that mean for him? 

"Uh," Dave said, inelegantly. He licked his lips - John recognised the movement as nonsexual, simply Dave trying to gather courage like John often did. 

"Uh," John repeated. They stood in awkward silence for a few seconds before John spoke. "Why are you... here?"

Dave almost seemed to wince before his face returned to emotionless stoicism. "Came to check on you."

John nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes. He didnt trust this. 

"Do you, uh, want a shirt?" Dave offered nervously. Johns eyes widened and he nodded quickly.

Dave clicked his tongue and seemed to be about to say something else, but before anything came out he turned around and was gone. 

The brunet blinked. He needed a second to absorb the fucking strange interaction he just had. Why in the everloving fuck was Dave being nice and offering him a shirt? They hadn't been this nice to him since... well, ever. 

John sat down on the least damaged chair and waited. His head was spinning, and he still wasn't sure if this was just a ploy. If it was, he would feel like such a fucking idiot for falling for it. For all he knew, Bro could come bursting through that door with a katana and start stabbing him, or Dave could come back with a shirt that had some torture device built in, or-

The door opened again, and John stiffened. Dave pushed his way through, holding a simple white shirt, and the brunet could feel his body relax a little. 

He took the shirt, whispering thanks, and slipped it on carefully. The cool fabric felt like heaven against his skin, and the only thing wrong with his outfit now was that he had been wearing the same goddamn shorts the whole time.

"Uh," John began, feeling like he was pushing his luck. "Could I.... maybe... have some jeans? Or just some different shorts?"

Dave blinked and said nothing, and John was terrified he had crossed a line. His fear spiked when the blond turned around and left again without a word. Oh fuck, he had fucked up. Dave was gonna go get Bro and he would be tortured until he cried and nothing would be okay and oh fuck he was going to be killed for asking for a new pair of fucking shorts-

But no, the door opened again and Dave stepped through, simply holding a pair of cargo shorts. John disappeared into the bathroom in relief, before feeling like a fool because the door was missing. Thanks to him. He was actually quite proud of that, honestly, he'd never have thought he could rip a door off it's hinges. He could hardly even lift a hammer. 

Trying to ignore Dave's eyes watching him, John changed quickly and sighed in the feeling of having a clean outfit. He never would have thought something so simple would make him so happy, and he wondered what else he had taken for granted. 

If he ever got out of here, he was never gonna take anything for granted again, that was for sure. Certainly not having a different outfit whenever he liked and most of all being able to eat what and whenever he liked. 

He was half tempted to ask what had happened to Dave's finger, especially since the stump was still oozing blood. The wound was clearly super recent, as was proven further by Dave's wincing whenever he touched something with his right hand. It made John uncomfortable to see such an open space on Dave's hand, so he couldn't imagine how the blond was feeling. 

They sat on the destroyed remains of Johns furnishings for a little while, neither saying a word. John was cautiously tolerating Dave's presence, out of fear more than anything else. Dave was trying to think of conversation, having never been in this position before. He wanted nothing more than to jump on John and take the boy right there, but he knew if he was aiming for trust that was most definitely the wrong way to go about it. 

Eventually Dave upped and left, causing Johns fear to spike yet again. This time the taller ten didnt return, and the brunet allowed himself to relax just a little, just enough to breathe normally again. 

Once Dave had been gone for longer than John deemed suspicious, he allowed himself to fully relax - well, as much as he could all things considered. 

He idly wondered about his friends yet again, the pain being dull and numbing this time instead of sharp and harsh. His mind had turned over every possibility enough at this point that whatever he imagined up didnt hurt quite as badly, simply made his chest ache and his head sting. When there wasn't the dull pains, there was emptiness, and that was what scared John most about his situation. 

The idea that someday his mind might numb everything so much that he no longer felt... anything. That he could become a shell without feelings or pain. What if his friends only got to him once he had lost everything except his body? Once his mind was gone to shit and his will had been broken? 

He told himself repeatedly that that would never happen, he'd never allow himself to break, but he passed out that day on furniture he destroyed himself with an ache in his chest and tears behind his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: There's some violence but it's not hugely graphic
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be longer but I cut it in half rip

John wished, for not the first time, that he had his computer. 

If he just had some contact to the internet, he could get Pesterchum, he could talk to his friends, he could plan an escape. Even if he didnt have Pesterchum, at least he would have somewhere to take down notes about an escape. The way he was, all he could do was cram as many ideas as he could into his brain and try to remember them all. 

That was what he was doing right now. 

He was on his fourth plan in what he presumed was as many hours, with multiple other concepts and plans forming in his subconscious. He had never thought so hard about anything before. 

He was just desperate to get out. 

Alongside his friends, John missed the outside. He missed the bright colours, the soft smells, the sounds of birds and people laughing. All he got in his enclosed room was white, white, and more white, the smell of day-old pizza and cereal, and the sound of his own breathing. 

It was turning him insane. He was desperate to run outside, to feel grass on his feet, to laugh his ass off after successfully pranking one of his friends. He wanted to be free, he wanted to be home, he wanted to be able to play piano and trip over harlequins and smell his dad baking a cake and let Rose teach him how to knit like she was always trying to and fuck he just wanted to go  _home._

So thats what he was going to do. 

* * *

Dave was pissed and confused, and his heart was aching but he didnt know what to do about it. 

His missing finger ached and occasionally it still felt like it was there. He was hoping, praying, that John was starting to even just cautiously tolerate him, that the teen would begin to accept him. 

Unlike what his brothers reasonings for something like that would be, he felt a genuine need for John to like him. He didnt want to hurt the boy in the slightest, he hadn't been lying when he said he wouldn't hurt a hair on Johns head if it was up to him. 

Sometimes, to Dave, it felt like they were both trapped there. 

But unlike John, Dave had lost his optimism about his situation a long time before. His heart no longer begged for freedom, his body didnt ache to be outside. He just accepted what his brother insisted and put up with it. He allowed Bro to break down his morals, to twist him into not bothering about right and wrong, to make him believe Bro was right. 

The man might have believed he succeeded, but Dave knew he had never truly given in to his brother. 

The thoughts had gone round, and round, and round, and eventually Dave gave up trying to make sense of his own brain and curled up on a couch, putting on some mindless show to distract himself from everything. 

Bro was nowhere to be found, and for that Dave was grateful, raiding one of the multiple kitchens in their apartment complex that they actually kept stocked. He nicked his arm on a sword trying to get leftovers out of a fridge and swore loudly, but it wasn't the worst he had gotten from one of Bros fucking fridge swords. 

Eventually he settled on the sofa again, stomach full and eyes unfocused, the show playing out as background noise. 

Fucking depressing. He wondered what Bro was doing. 

* * *

Bro was in the middle of sawing someone's limbs off. 

The kid was the same age as John, the man assumed, but he hadn't been part of the rescue party, and he doubted they were even friends - he had just been snooping, and Bro hated snoopers. 

The kid was small and stammery, hair styled in a kind of mohawk, walking with a slight limp which Bro was ever so kindly fixing by slowly and painfully sawing off his legs. Wasn't he kind? 

Out of curiosity, Bro paused in his work, wiping sweat from his brow. It took a lot of effort to saw through the human body. 

The kid breathed hard, crying his eyes out, and Bro slapped him to shut him up. Might as well find out if he  _had_ just been snooping. 

"Kid," Bro spoke, and the kid tried to still his sniffles. One of his legs was missing, blood dripping steadily from the stump, and the other was half falling off, only attached by bone and a few strings of flesh and gore. 

"Do you know John Egbert?" the blond asked, leaning over the sniffly dark-haired kid. He saw a flash of recognition run through his eyes, but then the kid shook his head, panicked, and Bro scowled. 

"Dont lie to me. What's your name?"

The kid couldn't avoid answering. "T-T-T-Tavros..."

"Well, T-T-T-Tavros, if you were looking for that little shit then congrats, you found where he is. Shame you'll never see him. And dont even think you have a chance of getting out of here alive. We dont take kindly to snoopers."

Tavros' breath quickened. "I wasn't, uh, s-snooping!"

"Oh, sure." Bros voice was thick and heavy, dripping with sarcasm. 

"Please, let me go," the kid continued, seemingly more to himself than to Bro, but the man laughed anyway. 

"Not a chance, kid! You'll stay here until both those legs are gone, and then I might go for those pretty little arms, and then once you're immobilised I'll see what I want to do with you!"

Leaning down close to Tavros' ear, Bro whispered in a voice that held hidden threats. "You and your little fucking search party are never gonna find that kid. Give the fuck up. Or I'll just kill off each of you individually, one by one, in different ways, all of them more painful than you can imagine. One of you is already gone, isn't that convenient! You'll be the next."

"John is just, uh, just a k-kid from my school! I'm not a, uh, a s-snooper! I p-promise! I won't t-tell anyone a-anything!" Tavros stuttered out. "I'm j-just..."

He was cut off by his own screams as Bro brought the saw down on his leg again, attacking it viciously until it fell next to his other one. 

Growling, the blond kicked them aside and dropped the saw. He readjusted the straps holding Tavros to the cutting block, and started to pace, before spitting on the boy and walking out, leaving him shaking. 

Bro stood outside the room, ignoring the occasional whimper from his victim inside. Was he ever gonna stop crying? In any case, Bro was considering his predicament. If the kid wasn't lying about not really knowing John, then that meant most of the people out there would be looking for John, and now the girl was dead as well they'd be even more incited to search. 

And of course, the abandoned apartment complex would probably be a likely candidate for "murderer hideout". 

Bro swore loudly. Dave and his fucking infatuation with this fucking kid. 

They'd probably have to relocate, Bro realised, thumping a fist against the wall in frustration. They had just got settled down in this town just a year or so ago and now Dave had to find this kid and fall in love or whatever. Bro thought he had trained him better. 

 _Well, there's nothing preventing the kid coming with us,_ the blond thought, narrowing his eyes slightly. That way, there was no chance of them being found, Dave could keep ogling the kiddo, Bro could have his fun and John would never be able to find his way home. The search party would be stumped, because the complex would be empty. 

Bro grinned, a plan formulating in his head with ease, and strode back into the room to work more on the teen he had strapped up in there, who was still crying quietly. 

* * *

Meanwhile, John wasn't having quite as much luck with coming up with a plan. The most likely one to succeed would be if he slipped out the next time one of his captors tried to give him food or whatever and ran for his life until he found a door outside. 

But then there was the issue of him not having shoes, of the fucking collar around his neck, of his general unsavory appearance. He knew his friends wouldn't mind, but he was worried about the police suspecting him for antisocial behaviors and him not having a chance to explain himself. 

The collar was most worrying to him, and he tugged at it uselessly like he often did. It had created a ring of bruises around his neck and collarbones alongside the burn scars now, from hitting his skin so often. There was no way he could hide it unless he asked Dave for a scarf, and it was 1. far too hot for a scarf, and 2. Dave would suspect that he wanted to hide the collar. 

On top of everything else, if he did have a way to hide the collar and get some shoes, his general appearance was a mess. His soft black hair had turned into a rats nest of tangles, his face was paler than normal and drawn out, he was skinnier than he had ever been and his hands shook slightly when he picked anything up. That would all surely be picked up by someone. 

He wondered if his friends had told the town, maybe put up posters. In that case, would they be looking out for a blue-eyed boy with black hair and glasses? Maybe they'd be looking for a boy with those qualities and a white t shirt with blue shorts, like he had been wearing when he was kidnapped. That was likely, he considered, looking down at his appearance. He had a fresh white shirt but cargo shorts were a big difference to the soft cotton blue shorts he had been wearing when he disappeared. 

Maybe if he just ran straight to his friends house, they could look after him and get Dave and Bro arrested. He probably shouldn't run straight home. They'd expect that, expect him to want to see his dad immediately - which he did, but he was more anxious about getting out of here than anything. He could see his father as soon as they were locked up. 

If he ran to the Lalonde's, Rose would be able to have the common sense to rally the police and get his captors behind bars, while Roxy would be able to reassure him and make him feel better. If he ran to the English-Harley household, he'd be assaulted with painful memories of Jade - but the captors were less likely to know where he was, as he didnt go there often and Dave probably couldn't have stalked him there. 

Janey he presumed would have moved in to look after his father, for all her recklessness she knew how to buckle down and work when she needed to, so he couldn't run to her, much as he'd like to. 

It seemed like the Lalonde's would be the safest bet, but he felt bad about leaving Jake alone, he couldn't be taking the loss of his cousin well. Neither could Janey, but if John was right in thinking she was staying at his house, then there was no way he could go and see her immediately. He'd see them all before long. 

Guilt flashed through him as he remembered he would be going home, and Jade would not. He felt awful about leaving her here, and quickly promised himself that he would do what he could to at the very least recover her body and try to bring her with him, if Bro hadn't done something with her body already. The least she deserved was a proper funeral. Then at least they could all say their proper goodbyes, because knowing Jade and how like a dog she was, she had run off without saying goodbye. The others all deserved to say bye to her, and she deserved to be sent off in a better way than slowly rotting in a room full of her own organs. 

John shuddered at the thought. It had started to give him nightmares on the rare occasions that he passed out from sheer exhaustion. 

That was another thing, if he planned to escape he'd have to sleep and regain some energy first. The thought of willingly putting all guards down in a place that held Dave and Bro made fear shoot through him, but he could hardly escape when every walking step made him stumble and almost trip out of pure sleep deprivation. 

He'd also have to eat, but he didnt know how he'd manage that. Maybe on his sprint to wherever he'd pass a kitchen and he could raid it for some precious energy before running on his way. He wished he had a map of wherever he was, because the amount of it he'd seen was all almost identical. 

He wondered where he was, and then it finally struck him. He had been a fucking idiot. Of course he was in the abandoned apartment complex, that place screamed "murderer hideout". It looked like it had been changed a bit, though. The floors no longer had carpets like he'd assume they should've, and of course some of the windows were blocked up. Most of them, actually. 

Well, that made his job easier. He and his friends had poked around the complex a few years back, and actually a few months back as well. Both times it had seemed uninhabited, but looking back, the second time seemed more sinister, as though there had been someone inside. 

In any case, he knew his way back from the complex easily. It was just a matter of getting out of the complex itself, and then sprinting like hell for the Lalondes. He hoped to God they'd be home and Roxy wouldn't be drunk. 

He pushed all possibilities except escape out of his crowded brain and focused on the chance of survival. That was what was important. Then all he had to do was wait until Dave or Bro came to give him food, and run out, and once he was outside he was home free. 

It was a flawed plan, but it might just work, and he hoped with renewed confidence that it would. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that this fic will have two endings, so whenever that comes around you've got two options to choose from which ending you prefer
> 
> Bc I'm an indecisive little shit and would never be able to pick one lol
> 
> also Tavros and Bro never interact but I wanted to write a bit of violence today, I didnt want any more humans to die yet and some of the trolls I kinda want in it later so poor Tavros was one of the only options  
> It was gonna be Sollux but I like my favourite characters to suffer  
> And Tavros is my second fave troll y'all (second only to Karkat)
> 
> Aight idk where this fic is going still


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: there's a rooftop strife and thats about it I think
> 
> We got 413 hits y'all

Dave was just beginning to fall into a slight doze when a voice from above him jerked him out of it. 

"Roof. Now."

The voice sent terror down the blonds spine and he shot off the couch immediately, and of course Bro had already disappeared. Dave knew he had all of ten seconds to get his sorry little ass to the roof of the complex before his beating would be even more brutal. 

The roof of the complex was mainly open, but there was a small area that was blocked off from the prying eyes of the town, and that was where the brothers had adopted for their rooftop strifes. Dave always hoped, whenever they relocated, that there would be nowhere to strife and maybe he'd be free from his brother's brutality in fights, but Bro seemed insistent on always finding places with enclosed spaces to fight. 

Dave was panting by the time he got there, head spinning from the speed. Bro tossed him a sword and they got into position, making sure they were both in the walled area. Didnt want anyone spotting them and suspecting something. Dave noticed, with annoyance, that his grip on the sword was weakened with only nine fingers, seven actual fingers if you didnt count thumbs. That was gonna be inconvenient. 

"So," Bro began, flashstepping forward and almost catching Dave off guard. The thinner blond dodged at the last nanosecond and countered the strike, swords clashing together. 

"So, what?" the teen responded, trying to keep up with his brothers flashsteps, and pissed that he was evidently expected to carry a conversation at the same time.

"We're relocating," Bro said, and Dave was caught most definitely off guard, leaving the man open to take a swing. The sword carved through Dave's arm and left blood dripping onto the floor, all in a matter of seconds. 

"What?" Dave asked, dumbfounded. Bro snickered and took another swing, Dave responding this time and clashing their swords together. 

"You heard me," the man said. "Cant have anyone finding out where our little pet is staying, can we?"

"But..."

"But what?"

"But we just got settled here!"

"Trust me, kid, I dont like it any more than you do."

Dave grimaced, staring down his older brother. They were locked in a fierce battle as they spoke, neither one taking their eyes off the other for more than a few seconds, and only then to take a strike and try to catch the other out. Dave was starting to get scratched up, but Bro was unharmed, like always. 

"Why, though?"

"I already told you, cant have anyone finding out where our little pet is. People have been looking for him. I've already killed that girl, and there's another kid downstairs on the chopping block which I have yet to decide what to do with. It's too risky."

Scowling, the teen took a chance and sliced at Bros side, but the man stepped out of the way and brought a hit round on Dave's back. The floor was covered in drops of blood by then. 

"Cant we just throw off the scent, plant a few clues somewhere else? Leave the girls body to be discovered somewhere else or something? That would work much better," Dave offered, and Bro stopped dead. He wanted to stab himself with the sword still in his hands. How the fuck didnt he think of that?

Dave took the chance and struck, managing to land a harsh blow on Bros forearm for the first time in his memory. He knew he should be proud of that, but he was focused on analysing Bro's expression. 

"Fuck it, you're right," Bro eventually muttered, dropping his sword. Dave's face cracked into a rare grin, and he dropped his sword as well. They wouldn't have to relocate again. He wouldn't have to disrupt John just when the boy was hopefully getting used to his situation. 

After sparring a little more, the brothers trailed back inside, and Bro went to retrieve Jades body from where it had been rotting, still left on the hook with both brothers too lazy or too annoyed to get it down. 

"So where are we gonna put it?" Bro asked, and Dave scrunched up his nose. He didnt wanna be overly mean, that would just make John lose any cautious trust he was building. 

"We could just drop it in the woods somewhere," the teen suggested, and Bro smiled slightly. 

"Only if we get to watch the reactions of all the kids looking for them."

Dave signed - he knew he couldn't argue with his brother on this. "Fine, fine, we can go with your sadistic obsession with watching people in pain."

"Sweet."

They fistbumped, but Dave felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. Surely John would want to say goodbye to his best friend.

"Should we give John a chance to say bye first?" the smaller blond said carefully, gauging his brothers reaction. The man shrugged disinterestedly. 

"Not much to say bye to," he said, grabbing the arm of the body and waving it. It was a sorry sight. The flesh had begun to rot slightly, and the greying face was marred by bruises that still lingered on the body. Jades face was contorted into an expression of fear and pain, and the body was empty, something that they would likely have to fix, at least a little bit. It smelt like hell, and Dave was being forced to cover his nose with his arm as they spoke. 

"Still," he said, muffled slightly. "She was his best friend."

"I'll think about it."

It was all Dave was going to get out of his brother, he knew, and he didnt mention it again, even as they scooped up Jades organs and shoved them carelessly into her open carcass. It smelt even worse when she was "complete" and Dave was beginning to feel happy with getting rid of her as soon as possible. He doubted John would want to see this either. It'd probably mess him up even more. 

So Dave said nothing when he and Bro finished with the body and the man immediately went for the front door, the girls body thrown over his shoulder in a fireman's hold. He said nothing when she was loaded into the old van and Bro stretched, turning back around and walking back inside, leaving Jades body to be disposed of whenever the mood struck. 

He said nothing until he went upstairs to see how John was doing. 

* * *

John was half asleep when there was a knock at the door, and he was reluctant to answer it, but Dave pushed his way in regardless. When the teen came to, his eyes instantly flicked to the door and he scowled. So much for putting his plan into action asap. 

"Hey," Dave said, sitting on the corner of Johns bed as the smaller teen sat up, pretending to be groggy and half-awake. 

"Hello," John said coldly, and Dave almost recoiled. This wasn't what he was expecting. He was expecting John to be a little warmer, a little more trusting. This seemed like a harsh turnaround. 

John, in truth, was trying not to gag. Dave stunk like a rotting body, and the brunet was valiantly hoping that it wasn't the body of a certain girl that kept popping into his mind. 

"You stink," he said bluntly, and the blond visibly relaxed. At least it wasn't him. 

"Sorry. Should I go?"

Dave was already standing to leave, and John was wrestling with himself as to what to do. On the one hand, this was a vile kidnapper who murdered and clearly didnt give a shit, but on the other... something about Dave gave John the impression that he was just a teen, in no better of a situation than John himself, and that impression strengthened slightly when he saw all the sword marks on Dave's arms, and the stump of a finger he still hadn't got used to seeing, and was sure Dave hadn't got used to either. 

That impression was probably why Johns hand shot out, why his fingers curled around Dave's wrist, why he pulled him back down to sit. The smell was already fading as his nose adjusted. 

"Stay," John said, and could've sword a wide smile cracked into Dave's face for all of two seconds before he was back to emotionless stoicism. 

"Alright," he said casually, twisting the sheets between the remaining fingers on his right hand. 

"Uh... Tell me about yourself?" John said, and it was more of a question than anything. Like it was an offer. Like Dave had a choice. 

The blond was suddenly hit with doubts about who was in charge between them at that point. 

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Where you go to school, how old you are, surname, your... relationship with your brother, where you got..." Johns voice faltered and trailed off, but Dave knew what he was asking, and sighed as if in exasperation, but complied. 

"I don't go to school, Bro raised and taught me. I'm sixteen years old, names Dave Strider." He took a deep breath before continuing, noticing that Johns eyes were wide and attentive. "Me and my brother... dont get on great. He tends to boss me around a lot. Uh. That's all I'm gonna say. All these cuts are from a rooftop fight, it's kind of a thing we do, and the missing finger is because I pissed him off a little too much. Any more questions?"

John inwardly cheered at his own intuition. His impression that Dave was almost just like him was strengthening with every word, and he almost wanted to ask Dave if he wanted to escape with him, rejoin society and get his brother arrested- 

No. John had to remember that Dave was a murderer, a kidnapper, a man lacking in morals and humanity, a sexual assaulter and a harsh captor, not an innocent teen like John was. If he started thinking about Dave as though he was innocent, he would end up falling into the trap of trust, and then Dave could hurt him worse than ever before. 

"Why am I here?" John asked, and Dave quirked an eyebrow above his shades.

"That's existential," he commented, and John wanted to punch either himself or Dave or both at how human he sounded. He had to fight to remind himself that psychopaths could imitate human emotion despite not feeling it themselves. 

"You know what I mean."

"Well, alrighty then. You're technically here because Bro orchestrated it, set the whole thing up and brought you here. I wanted to just..."

He took a deep, shuddering breath and his mouth twisted like he might cry, and John tried to tell himself that he was just a good mimicker of emotion, that he could just act and make up a story, but it seemed so... so... so real. 

"I wanted to just become friends with you, get you to like me. It was only because Bro saw me watching you that he brought you here. I wasn't lying when I said I didnt want to hurt a hair on your head."

Johns mouth twitched, and he spoke flatly. "You stalked me."

Running a hand through his hair, Dave dislodged his shades for a moment, long enough for John to see that there was raw emotion lying there, and all of a sudden it got very hard to believe it was a lie. 

"Fuck, man, when you say it like that... I was raised by a fucking maniacal psychopath, what do you want me to do? If I hadn't gone along with everything he said he'd have killed me, I'd be dead, I had to try, I dont want to be a killer or a psychopath or a maniac I just want to be normal but he won't let me, he's killed my morals and I barely know what's wrong anymore I just..."

Dave was babbling, and a tear slipped down his cheek. The brunet blinked behind his glasses. Fuck, he didnt know how to deal with his captor crying. 

He didnt know how to deal with the information Dave was giving him. He'd just wanted an answer to why he was here. And he supposed thats what he'd been given, but he hadn't been expecting such a rush of emotions from a guy who clearly hadn't been allowed to have them for a long time. 

His hand snuck out and found it's way between Dave's shoulder blades, rubbing soothingly as the teen hiccuped. 

"Sorry," Dave said, and repeated, again and again and again as he swiped at the tears collecting on his cheeks. "I should take you home, you want your home and your friends, fuck I'm an awful person, but Bro would kill me and I wouldn't be able to see you anymore and-"

" **DAVID MOTHERFUCKING STRIDER!!** "

Both boys jumped at the sudden noise, and Dave shot up, still babbling. 

"I'm sorry, we have to get rid of Jade, she was such a lovely person John I know she was but Bro wants to get rid of her I'll tell her goodbye for you I know she'd want that-"

**"DAVID!! NOW!"**

"I'll talk more if you want me to I'm sorry about everything I-"

Dave was cut off as John pressed a brief kiss to his lips. They pulled apart at the same time, both their eyes wide, and Dave took a moment to talk again. 

"I... I have to go."

With that, he shot out of the room to where his brother stood threateningly down the hall, leaving John behind to attempt to process all that had just happened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw wouldja look at that Dave's got all those emotions n stuff bless up
> 
> Y'all I actually have a plan for the next two chapters at least this is a first


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: bro being a perv I guess

Bro was glaring when Dave made his way to him, eyes narrowed from behind his anime shades. Dave had the slight stain of tear tracks on his cheeks, freckles marred ever so slightly, but luckily Bro wasn't the most observant when it came to tears and other such human emotions. 

They made their way outside, both blinking in the harsh light even from the protection of their shades. Bro scowled and turned to his brother. 

"Car," he commanded, pointing Dave to the van they had stashed Jade in. Dave climbed in the passenger seat and took the moment he could while Bro did whatever Bro was doing to twist around and whisper a goodbye to Jades body. He tried to make it short and say whatever he thought John might say, bile rising in his throat at the refreshed smell of rotting corpse. 

Eventually Bro slid into the drivers seat and started up the car, muttering complaints about the smell. They began to drive, Bro avoiding the main road like usual in favour of smaller ones leading them to the forest. 

When they got there, Bro donned a pair of latex gloves and shoved a pair into Dave's chest as well. They found a spot near the entrance of the wood, where someone was likely to pass by soon so that they could sit and not get too bored waiting for Bro to fill out his sadism quota, but also not too close that they'd be instantly spotted when dropping the body. 

They dusted down each part they'd touched, Dave feeling a pang every time he looked at Jades swollen face, and laid her down on the moss and leaves. Bro spent a little while arranging her "artistically" - Bro's words, not Dave's. They knew it would be obvious that someone had put her there, but they just needed to throw off the trail from their complex. 

Bro cursed as he remembered the kid still strapped up on the chopping block, as dead as the girl they were dumping. He had bled out at some point. They'd have to find a different place for him, spread the trail a little further away from them. For now, the woods would do. 

Once they had covered up their tracks through the twigs and leaves, ensured the van was on the road on the other side of the trees and there were no clues left behind, Bro shoved Dave down behind a fallen tree, just big enough to cover them if they squatted. 

Dave sat and stared into space as Bro set up some contraption that allowed them to see without being seen. Unlike his brother, he had zero interest in watching whatever poor soul found the body. He had a nagging suspicion it might be the boy who looked kinda like John and Jade combined. John had hung out with him a few times, but he couldn't quite remember his name. It was something beginning with J, he was sure, but in any case he had seen the guy hanging out in the forests a few times, particularly with Jade.

Dave hadn't realised how long it had been until Bro inhaled a sharp intake of breath and focused his attention. At that, his curiosity piqued, having been focused on the guy he was wondering about. If it wasn't him, he'd just turn back around. No need in seeing someone's reaction to a dead body. 

He almost groaned when he saw that it was the kid, eyes flicking to Bro for a second. His brother seemed even more intent than when he was studying Johns photograph all that time ago, his mouth open and his eyes hungry. 

Dave bit his tongue and turned to watch the teen. He looked a little older than Dave, about nineteen, maybe? 

He didnt notice the body at first, distracted by something else, but then his nose wrinkled up, clearly noticing the smell. Once he had smelt it, it was one short step to seeing it, figuratively and literally. The second he recognised the face and the body, he stilled. Nothing moved. 

Bro licked his lips. 

Dave cringed. 

And the kid let out the most heart-wrenching sob you could imagine, falling to his knees as tears fell from his eyes. He leaned over Jade's face, cradling her head in his palms, and sobbed openly on her body. From the corner of his eye, Dave could see Bro smirking hungrily, watching carefully as the man cried, grief-stricken. 

After what seemed like forever, Dave felt like his heart had been ripped out by this kid, and Bro was probably getting off to it, the fucking sadist. 

Eventually, the brunet steeled himself and managed to scoop up Jade's body into his arms, holding her bridal style, but not without a few choked sobs. His knees shaking, he turned around and retreated, presumably to inform the others of the confirmed demise of one of their friends. 

Dave felt awful. 

* * *

 

Bro was grinning like a little kid as he watched. The kid was even prettier than John, despite them sharing multiple features. 

Those green eyes, shut tight just at that moment with the force of crying, turned Bro's knees to jelly, and the buck teeth were even sexier on this kid than on Dave's little pet. His hair was dark and seemingly naturally styled, but a few strands fell out of the almost-quiff as he shook. His jawline was sharper than Johns, his skin darker, his body larger and wider, but presumably no taller based on what Bro could see. 

It was gorgeous, and Bro could suddenly see why Dave wanted John so badly, but he doubted that he would be doing any stalking of this kid. No, if he wanted whoever it was he'd be doing it the Bro way, not the pussy ass Dave way. 

Eventually, Bro's high came down as the kid left, but something else didnt go down, and he looked to Dave with eyes that likely reflected his ogling of the sobbing boy. 

"Well," he purred, and watched the shiver run through Dave. "I told you it'd be a show."

"You're such a fucking sadist."

"And you're such a fucking pussy. Cmon, that was hot."

"He was crying over the dead body of one of his best friends!"

Bro rolled his eyes. "That's what makes it hot, you fucking idiot. Honestly, why do I even bother."

Dave's face twisted into an expression of disgust. "That's sick."

"That's the way it is, little man." Bro punched Dave's bicep, and not lightly either, presumably in some brotherly affection type deal. He noticed that Dave was hovering his right hand above his left, probably subconsciously mourning his coping method. He betted if the kid still had his finger he'd be tapping away right now, tap tap tap like the little freak he was. 

"Whatever." Dave's voice was even colder than his normal monotone, and Bro chuckled. 

"Still. Dont forget who's in charge."

With that, he motioned to Dave's missing finger, forcing the teen to turn red before he chuckled more and stood up, taking long strides back to the van on the other side of the forest. He slid in and began to drive off, Dave just barely managing to jump in before he screeched away. 

When they got back, Dave disappeared, and Bro assumed it was to talk to his little pet. Bro relaxed on one of the couches in their complex and pulled his shades off, shutting his eyes to think about the kid from the forest. He would have to find out his name, some way or another. 

After a little while, he heard footsteps, and looked up to see Dave leading John down the hallway. The smaller boy looked dazed, as though he was attempting to process something, and Bro was mildly surprised that he wasn't bolting. Maybe he had finally learnt his lesson and decided to be a good little boy. 

They sat down in the kitchen, Dave shoving some chicken in the oven, and Bro nonchalantly stretched and walked to join them. He deliberately leant on Johns shoulder to intimidate him for a moment. 

"Whatcha doing?" he asked, and Dave rolled his eyes. 

"What does it look like?"

"You gonna make me some of that chicken?"

"Well that depends, do you want some?"

"Read between the lines, bro. Of course I want some. I'm starving."

"Then no. Make yourself something."

Bros lazy smile turned into a scowl at Dave's reply, and he left Johns shoulder - who squeaked and rubbed it, scared to watch whatever was happening - to twist Dave around so they were nose to nose. 

"I said, make me something to eat."

Dave pretended like it didnt faze him, but his heart was thumping. "Yeesh, alright, I'll make you some fuckin chicken. Calm down."

Bro growled at the comment but sat down across from John, who looked scared by the behaviour. The man internally cursed as he saw the collar around Johns neck, bruising his flesh, but a smile spread on his face. He still had the key and the remote to that thing, and if the pet made any moves, hoo boy would he get it. He couldn't believe he hadn't been utilising it before now. His memory must be slipping. 

After what took longer than it probably could have, Dave plunked two plates down in front of them, and sat next to John to dig into his own chicken. The three men began to eat in awkward, tense silence. John was too freaked out to speak, Bro was too annoyed and Dave was staying silent for whatever reason he wanted. Bro didnt much care. 

The chicken was burnt as John poked at it, and he wrinkled his nose in distaste, but ate it anyway, thanks to the rumble of his stomach. 

Once they had eaten Dave silently cleared their plates and stood, leading John back to his room. Bro was left to his thoughts again, and they unsurprisingly strayed to the boy who looked almost like John, but... older and hotter. 

He'd have to have him, one way or another. 

* * *

When Dave and John returned to Johns room, the brunet was surprised when the blond didnt immediately start babbling again, and simply sat down on the bed with a harsh huff. 

John sat next to him, pushing aside all thoughts or doubts about his innocence, and laid a comforting hand on Dave's thigh. Dave responded accordingly, interlocking their fingers and pressing a kiss to Johns knuckles. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered into Johns hand.

"About what?"

"Everything."

Dave took off his glasses and laid them aside, looking at John with vulnerability and pain in his crimson eyes. It was as though he was laying himself bare for the boy, opening himself up to whatever cutting words John chose. 

The brunet simply smiled and switched where their hands were, pressing a kiss to Dave's knuckles as well, careful of his missing finger. The blonds eyes widened in surprise. 

"It's alright," John whispered, and Dave could cry from happiness. "You're just... a kid, aren't you?"

The blond let out a dry sob at that, touching their foreheads together. 

"I'm so sorry you're here," he said, tracing a few of the burn scars on Johns neck with his right middle finger awkwardly. 

"Dont suppose you could let me... go home..." John whispered, and Dave took a deep breath. 

"Soon. I'll... I'll figure out a way to get rid of Bro, get the key for this thing," and at that Dave touched the collar cautiously, "and we can escape together. I... I really like you, John. I hope... someday we can be normal together."

John still wasn't 100% sure about the new development. Everything was moving far too fast for his liking, but Dave just looked so open and vulnerable and trusting, and he couldn't say no. If Dave turned out betraying him, well, so much for Johns optimistic attitude. He was gonna be on shutdown mode, and he didnt care. He just hoped Dave  _wouldn't_ betray him. He really wanted to trust him. 

"Me too," John eventually settled on replying, choosing to take the risk. Dave visibly relaxed, his shoulders losing their tension. Carefully, softly, John leaned forward to connect their lips in a kiss.

Dave broke apart for a second, exhaling gently from his nose.

"Why are you kissing me?" he asked, looking up at John from between his lashes. 

"Because I want to."

"But.. Why?"

"I trust you."

John leant forward and connected their lips once more. This kiss was different from the others. It was sweet, and sad, and crackled with words neither of them could manage, and Dave felt a tear escape his eye as they kissed. He had never heard something so sweet. 

John was wrestling with himself but at this point he didnt care if he was seen as a homosexual or not. It was just nice to share this intimacy, to allow himself to relax against someone else, and who gave a shit if it was a boy or a girl. 

He needed to be close to someone he trusted, and hard as it was to admit, he was beginning to trust Dave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings™
> 
> Apologies if this feels like it's been rushed. Pacing isn't my strong suit.


	11. Intermission 2 - Act 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: sexual assault (not rlly graphic)

No one had expected Jake to come stumbling out of the woods that day with a body in his arms, but that's exactly what happened. 

It all felt like a rush. One minute, Jane was tending to her uncle. She was checking the cookies in the oven - they were almost done, just a few more minutes. Everything was as normal as it could get. The next minute, there was a knock at the door, a very pathetic knock at the door at that. But it was distinctive. Jake had a very particular way of knocking. 

When she opened the door, she was instantly assaulted by the stench of rotting flesh. Once she had gotten over that, she took in the sight before her. 

Jakes face was tearstained, red from crying and miserable, his glasses dislodged. His arms were wrapped tightly round a rotting body, organs spilling out gruesomely. It took Jane a second to recognise the face, and once she did her hands flew up to conceal her sharp intake of breath. 

"Jake..." she said, looking up to meet the boys eyes. His face crumpled and she worried he was going to start crying again. She worried that she was going to start crying herself. 

Jake was struggling slightly under the weight of his cousins body. She had always been significantly bigger than him, in all aspects, and it must be painful to be carrying her festering body. 

In a matter of minutes, all four of the remaining kids were gathered at Jane's - John's - in the garden, staring down on Jades body. Roxy had started to sob loudly, managing loud curses whenever her tears allowed her to speak. Jake was silent, but tears were rolling down his cheeks as he stared, his mouth twitching. Rose was silent as well, her lips tightly pressed together and chest rising and falling quicker than normal. Her knuckles were white, holding a death grip on the book she still carried. And Jane was pacing, muttering curses. 

"So wh-at a-actually happened, Jake?" Rose asked, her lips quivering as she attempted to not cry. 

Jake inhaled deeply and rubbed at some of the tears running down his cheeks. "I was... I was going into the forest, and I smelt this blasted godforsaken awful smell."

It calmed the others slightly to hear Jake use one of his old-timey phrases. It signaled that maybe he had had some closure, that one of his worries had disappeared with the confirmed death of his cousin. 

"I investigated, and I found... I found..." He took another deep breath. "She was lying on the floor, and I lost it. The most ridiculous thing, though, the whole time I had the most discombobulating feeling that someone was watching me."

"You sound more like yourself, Jake," Rose said quietly. 

Jake sighed. "I feel more like myself. I think its good to get some closure on at least one of them. I hope she's..." and his breath hitched, but he kept going regardless. "I hope she's okay and having fun, wherever she is."

They all nodded in agreement, and it was Roxy who noticed between sniffs that Jane had disappeared. They all spun around, and after a few moments of panic, Jane reappeared, a needle and thick embroidery thread in her hands.

"I found this somewhere," she said softly. "I thought it might be nice to sew her up. Make her whole again..."

She was cut off by Jake closing the distance between them and encasing her in a warm English hug. They held onto each other for a long time, neither wanting to let go. 

Eventually they broke apart and Jane moved to Jades body, threading the needle and using it to sew up the gaping hole in the front of Jades body.

Once she was done, the smell lessened slightly and they all relaxed a little. It looked a lot more Jade-like this way. 

Jake leaned forward and closed her glassy green eyes, noting properly for the first time that her glasses weren't on her face. It didnt seem like Jade without them, but there wasn't much they could do about that. 

They all sat back and looked at her for a moment, until eventually Roxy spoke.

"We should bury her in the forest. She loved it there most."

The other three nodded in agreement at Roxy's hiccupy, wobbly statement. They didnt want to hold a proper ceremony. That wouldn't feel like Jade. 

It only took a little while before they were in the forest, in the place Jade had loved most, a little clearing where wild mushrooms and flowers grew where they pleased. They had dug a grave together, big enough to hold her body, and although none of them knew how to hold a funeral, they were damn well going to do their best. 

Rose was the first to speak. She stepped forward with a light cough and a solemn expression. 

"Jade Harley. You were one of my greatest friends, and I will always hold you dear. You deserved a better end than this vicious demise. I wish we could bring you back so you wouldn't have to suffer through this wicked end, and so we could tell you how much we love you. I will always remember you. Goodbye."

She stepped back, throat too constricted to say any more. Jane chose to speak next. 

"Jade, I... You were always so cheerful, you were such an inspiration. I hate that you had to go out like this, at the hands of such vile creatures. You didnt deserve it, no one does. We'll always miss you, and I'll always think of you when I see those plants you love so much, or the colour lime green. You.... Goodbye, Jade."

Roxy was next, leaving Jake for last. 

"Jade, I wish I could have been there. I wish I could've stopped whoever these people are and I wish you could be here with us now, staring at your favourite flowers instead of your grave. I hope you like the little ceremony we're doing. I dont think you'd like the whole formal affair. But... I hope you have fun, wherever you are. Goodbye, Jadey."

Jake bowed his head, recognising that he was expected to speak, and shuffled forward, tears already threatening behind his eyes. 

"Jade, there's nothing I can say that would encompass all I want to say to you. So I'm just going to say... goodbye. Love you, Jade. I hope you're okay wherever you are."

They stood silent for a moment, listening to the wind whistle through the trees, until Jane finally stepped forward and sprinkled a handful of dirt into the grave, onto Jade's body. The others followed suit, and before anything else could be done Roxy moved away, knelt down, picked one of Jade's favourite flowers and moved back to lay it on her chest. Jake nodded in acceptance and they all moved to help shovel the dirt back into the grave. It felt awful, having to cover up their best friend like that. 

Eventually, the grave was just a mound of dirt on the forest floor, and they supposed they should find something to mark it. Jane and Rose disappeared, and after a few minutes they returned with a paintbrush and some black paint. Roxy and Jake had dug out the largest, flattest stone they could and pulled it over to the other girls, placing it down ready to write her grave. It wouldn't be professional, or formal, but it would be Jade. 

"Did she have anything she would say?" Rose asked, as she neatly painted Jade's name, birthday, and death day. Because none of them knew how long she had been dead, they simply had to use the date she was buried, which felt like an insult to Jade's memory, but it's not like any of them could tell how long a body had been dead. 

"I dont know," Jake admitted. 

"Maybe we could all write a little message, instead? I think she'd like that." Roxy offered, and the others nodded in agreement. 

That was how Jade's gravestone became covered in little doodles, in loving messages from her friends and in bright colours that Rose had quickly fetched. 

_To honour a great friend. We love you. -Rose_

_You were always the best of the best, Jadey! -Roxy_

_Keep adventuring, Jade! We love you! -Jane_

_Go get em, wolf. -Jake_

They stood and looked at their handiwork, Roxy adding a few extra cats and swirls around her message, before moving the stone to sit at the head of the grave. Everything fell silent, and Jake took a deep shuddering breath. 

"We've done all we could," Rose said, her eyes fixed on the gravestone. "Come. We can always visit her."

One by one, they trailed out of the forest, but not before each placing a single flower upon the grave. Jake was last to leave, and before he hurried after the others, he pressed a kiss to the petals of his flower and laid it carefully with the others. 

At least they knew what had happened to at least one of their friends. 

* * *

It had been a few days since the funeral in the forest, and the kids had returned to spending each day worrying about John. They also had that kid Tavros having been reported missing - which, of course, was worrying, but it wasn't quite as bad considering none of them save for Jake had talked to him much. 

Speaking of Jake, his moods were slowly lifting. He spent far less time in the forest, although that could partly be to do with not wanting to run into the grave. He had re-adopted his ridiculous phrases and vocabulary, and just listening to him talk cheered the others in turn. 

So now they all just had to worry about John. It was terrifying to entertain the possibility that John had suffered the same fate as Jade, but they all felt this strange certainty that he wasn't dead. There was no conceivable way that they could know for certain, but they all felt that he was still alive, probably planning to escape any day. All they could do was hold blind hope. 

It became a little bit harder to believe he was alive when Tavros' torso, along with his detached limbs and head, were found scattered on the opposite side of town, in a warehouse. 

It was Jake to discover the body again. Of course.

He had taken to exploring all the suspicious parts of town, his determination renewed to save John from Jade's fate, or at least get closure on him as well so they could go into mourning and accept their loss. At this point, thanks to the body being found, the police had gotten themselves involved, but due to the police in their town being stereotypical donut-eating coffee-drinking asshats - not to mention lazy and useless - it really wasn't doing much good. 

And when Jake found the second dead body he'd ever seen, this one split cleanly into six parts - head, two legs, two arms and a torso - he was, understandably, a little traumatised. 

"Hello?" he called, poking his head around the stacks of crates in the warehouse. He could see no one, so perhaps the body had been there for a while? Nudging it with his foot, Jake adjusted his glasses and turned to leave, squeaking when he saw what stood before him. 

Standing before him was a man. 

He was a good few inches taller than the brunet, tall and intimidating, all rippling muscles and too-small polo shirt. His eyes were covered by ridiculous pointed shades, and Jake could see himself reflected in them. He looked terrified. 

"H.. Hello there, good sir..." he mumbled out, noting that the man wasn't even responding to the body parts by their feet. That wasn't a good sign. God, he wished he'd taken Roxy up on her offer to come with him. 

"Hello." The man's tone was cold and growling, holding a hint of danger that made Jake step back warily. 

"Um... I should... Really be on my way, my friends will be worried..." Jake spun on his heel, desperate to escape. The man held an aura of danger that made the brunets gut twist and fear to constrict his throat. As he tried to walk away, a hand enclosed his wrist, a hand much bigger than Jake's own and closing with a force that made him wince. 

"Um.. Sir?"

Jake was shut up quickly by being spun around and dragged into a rough kiss, the stranger immediately forcing his tongue into the brunets mouth. He outright squealed and shoved the man away, stumbling back. His feet tried to scramble away, but one of the detached arms was in his path, and he fell onto his ass with a thud and a squeak. 

The man approached him, licking his lips. 

"There's no point in screaming," he said lowly, a smirk growing. Pure terror pooled in Jake's stomach. "I've been wanting this ever since that day you found your little friend."

Hot tears made their way to forest green eyes. "You were there!" So that was why Jake had felt like he was being watched. 

"I wasn't just there. Who do you think killed her? Quite a creative death, if I do say so myself. She was quite the screamer. But don't worry, you'll get your chance to scream soon, only in a different way."

The fear that had locked itself in Jake's heart made way for anger, and he furiously slapped away the hands that had been creeping towards his clothing. Attempts to stand back up were quickly shut down, as the man shoved him back onto the concrete floor every time he tried to push himself up.

"YOU FUCKING KILLED HER!" he screamed, his chest rising and falling furiously. The man almost flinched, but quickly composed himself, even as Jake continued on his enraged tirade. "YOU MONSTER, YOU FUCKING PIG, I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL-"

Jake was cut off by a strangers lips once again assaulting his, and this time pushing away did nothing. The man only forced himself on more, until Jake was lying flat on the concrete with this stranger, this blond murderer, this absolute monster of a man-

Wait a minute. If he had killed Jade, and Jade had been looking for John, and she had found the place, that meant this man was there. That meant... 

Oh fuck no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if I had continued with this chapter it'd be twice the length of all the others so I decided to cut it in half
> 
> I rlly like my favourite characters to suffer?? Lmao boy howdy kill me
> 
> How do I write like I'm running out of time


	12. Intermission 2 - Act 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kankri Warnings: non-graphic rape
> 
> yieks

Jake brought his knees up and kicked his attacker, hard, on the chest. It sent the stranger flying off him, enough to allow Jake to jump up in a flash and continue yelling.

"YOU'VE GOT JOHN TOO, HUH? WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM? WHAT THE  **FUCK** HAVE YOU DONE?"

"Your friend is safe."

"LIKE I'M GOING TO BELIEVE THAT!" 

"You should. It's true. My brother is looking after him. They're probably making out right now."

"JOHN WOULD NEVER! HES NOT EVEN GAY, FOR STARTERS!"

"Are you?"

"DOES IT  **MATTER?** "

The stranger straightened up to his full height, and Jake realised he must have been slouching before, because he seemed much, much taller. He stalked over to the brunet and twisted his hands into the front of Jake's shirt, lifting him off his feet so the two were nose-to-nose. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before the man began to speak. 

"Most people call me Bro, but you will call me Dirk. I want you to have a proper name to moan out when I'm fucking you."

Jake had never been so scared or angry in all his life. His eyebrows knitted together and he opened his mouth to start yelling again, but nothing came out, except for a strangled yelp. 

After another moment, the hands holding him off the floor released, sending him thudding to the concrete. As fast as he could he was on his feet, but before he could even get two steps in, Dirk's arms were around his waist, pulling him close. 

Tears pricked at Jake's eyes and he began to hyperventilate, Dirk pressing kisses and bites into the skin of his neck. This was terrifying and terrifyingly real. All he could think about was the shakiness of his shallow breaths and the heat of the stranger, the monster pressed against him and how he was going to be raped by the awful, awful human who killed his cousin and kidnapped one of his best friends - not to mention presumably killing the kid who's body parts still littered the floor around them - and he couldn't do anything about it. 

Before Jake knew it, his clothes were off, and it was cold, so cold, too cold. Dirk was muttering something but there was a roaring in the brunets ears that drowned out anything else, a roaring that overwhelmed him and drowned him and it was so cold and so terrifying. 

And it hurt, so badly. Jake cried the whole time, tears streaming down his face as he was violated, as he was destroyed and ripped apart by the man who was a murderer and a kidnapper and a sadist and he just wanted it all to be over.

After a while it felt like he wasn't even in his body anymore, it felt like he was floating high above and looking down, watching as this 19 year old had his body destroyed and his heart consumed with fear and fury-

And then it was over, and Jake felt himself collapse, physically and mentally. Everything hurt. He didnt even have the energy to start yelling again. 

Before he could do or say anything, Dirk pressed another sloppy tongue kiss to his lips and muttered something that Jake didnt quite catch over the roaring that had subsided slightly but still plagued him. But, worryingly, it sounded an awful lot like  _I'll see you soon._

And then the man was gone. 

Jake lay on the cold concrete, every part of him aching and cold and on fire, all at the same time. He was staring straight up at the ceiling, trying to comprehend the gravity of what just happened. It didn't feel real, it didnt feel like that had just happened to him, it felt like it was all some awful dream and maybe if he shut his eyes and wished hard enough he'd wake up back at home. 

But he didnt. He opened his eyes and he was still naked and alone and cold and aching on a warehouse floor with the detached body parts of a kid he barely knew lying nearby. 

It took him a long time to work up the courage, energy and motivation to even get up and try to clothe himself again. Everything hurt. It hurt to sit, it hurt to stand, it hurt to move or walk, it hurt more than anything to think about what happened. 

Once he was dressed he got out of there as quickly as possible, his legs shaking, barely holding his trembling frame. He never wanted to go in the old warehouse again. 

* * *

None of the girls were calm or casual about the fact that their friend was missing, of course not. They were just really fucking tired, which is why they were sitting in the Lalonde's garden as Rose knitted, Roxy drank and Jane twisted her skirt around her fingers anxiously. It felt wrong for her to be away from her uncle for too long - what if he needed her? But Roxy had insisted she take some time away, relax out some of the tired and the worry. 

Nothing had seemed wrong when Jake had eventually located them and come to sit by them. He had been oddly silent, but the girls simply assumed he had something on his mind and let him sit. 

Eventually, Rose placed down her knitting needles and took a delicate sip of a martini, and that was when she noticed Jake's face, twisted into terror and disgust and anger all at once. 

"Jake?" she ventured, causing the boy to snap his head up violently. Roxy had rolled over and put down her glass, and Jane was losing interest in her skirt. 

"Hm? Oh, yes, yes, hello, yes, how are you, yes, I'm fine, I'm tiptop, I'm dandy, I'm splendid lovely excellent wonder... ful..." Jake's words died in his throat and he pushed his glasses back up his nose, swallowing hard. 

"Jake, what's wrong?" Jane asked quietly, and none of them were prepared for their friends face to crumple into tears, or for him to drop his head into his hands and start mumbling an unintelligible stream of words. 

An arm was put around him and he smacked it off furiously. 

"Shit, dude," Roxy said, the bearer of the arm, who was now rubbing it disgruntledly. They allowed Jake a moment until he inhaled sharply through his nose and looked up, eyes full of pain.

"I met the guy who kidnapped John," he said quietly, almost too quietly, the others barely heard. "Jade's killer. And this kid Tavros, too, his body was there and I found it and then this man was there..."

Rose got the feeling something else had happened. "Jake, what did he do?"

"He... He..."

Jake couldn't get the words out. They were choked in his throat, refusing to be spoken, and he finally settled on other words that would escape around the constriction he felt on his windpipe.

"Bad stuff. To me."

"What kind of bad?" Rose prompted again, exchanging glances with her sister and Jane. They had a feeling they knew where this might be going, having taken in Jake's dishevelled appearance and inability to speak the word.

".. Bad bad. He.. S... Sexual stuff."

That confirmed the girls theory, and Jake was very clearly trying to keep it together.

"He... Raped you?"

At that, the brunet nodded vigorously, his face crumpling even further as he broke down into choked sobs, his shoulders shuddering as he borderline bawled, curling in on himself and shaking. 

Roxy was the first to cautiously extend her arms and wrap them around him, followed soon after by Jane and Rose. It felt awful, feeling one of their best friends shudder and sob, and knowing he'd been violated in a way nothing could fix. Knowing what had happened to him. 

"Can you say anything more about it?" the smallest of the girls asked softly, her black pixie cut tickling Roxy's side as all three girls attempted to hug their friend. Jake took a moment before nodding. 

"I tried to get away as fast as I could, but I tripped and he kept pushing me down and kissing me... That's when I found out he, um, k-killed Jade and kidnapped J-John. He picked me up so we were nose to nose - he was really tall, even taller than Jade is... was. I tried to run again and then he... He..."

Jake broke out in another wave of fresh sobs, and Rose rubbed his back soothingly. None of them knew firsthand what Jake must be feeling, but based on his reaction they could take a pretty good guess. 

"It hurt so badly, Roxy," Jake mumbled into the chest of the girl he mentioned as she kept her arms tight around him. Jane held him tight as well, Rose rubbing circles on his back. "It still hurts so badly just sitting here. I felt like I might collapse the whole way here."

"You're here now," Jane piped up, resting her head on his side. "That's what matters."

"I just... I felt so helpless, I've never felt helpless before. I was just lying there as this brute had his way with me and all I could do was cry and beg with nothing for it to stop hurting so badly, for it to stop. It was so cold and so terrifying and I..."

They let him sob for a few more minutes until eventually Rose voiced the question that was at the forefront of all three of their minds. 

"Can you describe what he looks like? Did he mention a name?"

Jake nodded again, taking deep breaths. He realised he probably wasn't being very helpful, just making Roxy's shirt wet with tears. "He had blond hair and freckles, and he was a good bit taller than me, taller than any of us. He was wearing a white polo shirt and black jeans with a belt and he had these stupid pointed shades that meant I couldn't even tell where he was looking."

The girls blinked at the sudden information. "Do you think you'd be able to recognise him again?" Roxy asked, lifting Jake's head from where it had unknowingly settled between her breasts. He looked up at her with pathetic green eyes that looked depressingly hurt and broken. 

"Any day."

Pressing a kiss to Jake's forehead, Roxy stepped back and indicated that the other two should do so as well. Jake stood, wobbling a little, and took off his glasses for a moment to rub at the tears still in his eyes and still making their way down his cheeks. 

"Um... I'm sorry," he mumbled, causing the girls to blink.

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

"You were relaxing and I just came here and unloaded all this depressing sob story of what I should've just been a man about. I'm sorry, you should all be focusing on John, I'm so sorry, I..."

"Ssh, it's not your fault. If you're hurt you should tell us, especially something big like this. We'll help, as much as we can." It was Roxy speaking again, sounding more sober than she had in weeks, and perhaps she was, who could tell. She knew how to sober up quickly when the mood wasn't right for falling over and silly mispronunciations. 

"... He said John was safe."

"What?!"

"I asked him what the fuck he had done to him and he just said 'your friend is safe'. I refused to believe him and he said I should, it's true, and he said that John and his brother were probably making out right now."

Jane's nose wrinkled. "But Johns not gay, god knows he's insistent enough about it."

"That's what I said, but he changed the subject and just asked if I was."

"But, doesn't this mean we now have even more headway as to Johns status? Either this man is a liar, something that is not unlikely, or John is being kept by at least two brothers, presumably sharing somewhat similar features with this one. The sunglasses seem rather prominent, especially if they were oddly shaped. Perhaps the brother John is with also wears sunglasses."

"Okay, and why is this important?" Roxy was impatient, unwilling to listen to her sister theorise, and Rose evidently wasn't pleased by that, letting out a sigh before continuing. 

"It means, if this man was telling the truth, we now know the overall looks of our kidnappers, and even beyond that we still have the address that Jade went off to visit before she... Now, we dont know if that address is correct or if Jade was taken somewhere else before being killed, but it's a safe enough bet that its likely a good place to start."

"Dirk."

"Excuse me?"

"He said his name was Dirk. Well, he said most people call him Bro, so that'll probably be more important or... whatever."

Rose pressed a kiss to Jake's temple, and he blinked up at her dully. She smiled a sweet smile, and Jake tried to smile back, but it came out as more of a grimace. 

Eventually, after much discussion, they parted their separate ways, Jake taking a moment to visit his cousins grave and kneel at the foot of it. 

He thought about all that had happened, and he wondered what would happen. He hadn't mentioned Dirk - or Bro, he supposed - potentially muttering that he'd  _see him soon._ He didnt want to have to think about the implications of that. 

He didnt want to have to think about Bro at all, but as he tossed and turned in bed that night, he could only remember the pure fear and anger he had felt, the helplessness and the terror, the disassociation and the cold. 

If that was who John was with, cold fear ran through him at the idea of what the teen must be going through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont know how to write things y'all im a mess
> 
> We've got like 600 hits and 30 kudos??? Lmao how
> 
> Poor Jake I'm an awful person


	13. Chapter 13

Nothing had made Bro feel as powerful as having that teen squirm futilely underneath him, hearing him sob and plead for it to be over, and knowing he was taking something that couldn't be replaced. 

It was exhilarating, and even as he crouched behind crates to watch the kid gather himself and leave, he was desperate to jump on him again and keep going until the kid was silent, keep going until he broke him. 

But he had plans, and he wanted to be able to go back to the kid again. 

Once he had disappeared, Bro cursed that he hadn't got his name, but then again he doubted the brunet would give it up easily, especially after what had happened. Maybe he would have to do a little bit of stalking after all. 

Smirk plastered on his face as always, Bro straightened up and sauntered out of the warehouse, watching as the teen in the distance stumbled away. God, it had been hot seeing him in pain, begging for it to stop hurting so badly, tears pouring down his cheeks as Bro did whatever he chose, powerless and helpless to stop the man. 

Bro had to snap out of it. He couldn't keep having flashbacks to what was only a few minutes before. The kid couldn't help being the hottest piece of ass Bro had seen in a long time. Besides John, but Bro supposed he was more cute than hot, but this teen - jeez. 

Eventually, the blond was back at the van, reversing onto a small road to drive leisurely back to the complex. He couldn't wait for the look on Johns face when he regaled him and his brother with the tale of what he had done. 

* * *

John was cuddled close to Dave when Bro stormed in, arms locked tight around the blonds middle. They had been talking about their lives, and John could feel himself trusting Dave more with every story that unfolded. None of it was the kind of shit you could make up, but he briefly wondered if he had Stockholm Syndrome or something like that - I mean, who trusts the guy who kidnapped you? 

His wanderings about his own mental health were cut off by Bro bursting through the door, making both teens jump. 

"I just had a hell of a time," Bro drawled, sitting down hard on the bed. John and Dave drew apart cautiously, Dave glaring at his brother from behind his sunglasses. 

"What happened?" the youngest blond asked, trying to keep his voice even. Bros smirk widened, as though he had been waiting for one of them to ask that - actually, he probably had been. 

"Well, you remember that kid we saw when we dumped the bitches body, the one that looks like your little pet there?" Dave nodded cautiously, while John almost choked on air at Jade being called a bitch and himself a pet. "Well, he was poking around again, so I planted the body of that kid I had with me for him to see. He freaked out and was about to leave, but then I stepped in."

John started to feel sick. A kid that looked like him, that had been poking around...

"Did he have green eyes and glasses? And dark hair?" he blurted out, earning him a glare from the older Strider. 

"Yes. Now shut up. Anyway, he tried to run, but I kept stopping, and eventually I managed to have my fun~"

John felt sick to his stomach. He could just  _hear_ the '~' in Bro's voice. "Jake.." he breathed, barely loud enough for the blonds to pick up on - but they did, and Bro smiled even wider, if that was possible. 

"His names Jake?"

Not knowing how to deny it, John simply nodded, and was rewarded with an almost friendly ruffle of his hair. 

"Well, that makes my job a lot easier. Thanks, kid. You ain't so bad."

The praise both lifted Johns spirits and felt like a fist to the gut. Even if Bro was being nice now, who knew what he would do later. And Jake... John hoped beyond hope that the remainder of his friends were all safe, that they weren't too worried. It was horrific to think about what happened. One friend kidnapped, one dead, one raped, three undoubtedly scared out of their minds. 

Dave and his brother muttered for a few minutes, before the eldest stood up abruptly and exited the room, leaving Dave and John alone again. The blond tried to settle back down into cuddling, but the brunet refused to, thinking hard about his friends. 

"Dave, are my friends going to be alright?" he asked wearily, and Dave could hear a tiredness there that sounded like it came from the very bottom of Johns heart.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Dave assured, holding out his arms for John to fall into. The brunet did so, but as he buried his face into Dave's chest and felt his four-fingered hand rub his back comfortingly, he couldn't help feeling anxious about his friends. 

Rose was calm and composed, she was likely trying to keep the other three under control. John doubted she'd do anything super depressive. Roxy had likely gone back to drinking, which twisted John's gut in guilt - she had finally been improving on recovery. Jane was hardworking, but reckless, and John worried what she might do. And Jake would normally be the most adventurous and optimistic, but after what Bro had done, he'd probably lost that completely. 

If there was ever anything he was desperate for, it was the sound of his friends voices. 

Eventually Dave's breathing settled into a steady, slow rhythm, his chest rising and falling against John's. The brunet squirmed a little as Dave's arms tightened around him, rolling out of Dave's grip and sitting up on the edge of the bed. He stared at the blank wall for a moment, adjusting his glasses, before glancing back at Dave, asleep in the bed.

The blonds arms were twisted around himself now John had left, his mouth mumbling something that John couldn't catch. Sighing, the brunet brushed a lock of hair out of the sleeping teens face and pulled himself to his feet, careful to not shift the bed too much. 

He padded softly to the door and tried it. He was in luck - it was unlocked. Pushing it open, he looked both ways down the corridor, seeing no sign of Bro. Satisfied that the man wasn't nearby, he set off down the corridor, the same direction he had gone before. It took quite a while to get to the door he had seen Jade die behind, and he cringed at the dried blood still in the crack at the bottom of the door, hurrying past quickly. 

He didnt quite know where he was going, he just knew he had to see the sky, smell fresh air, hear a voice that wasn't his own or Dave's or Bro's. His mind wasn't even considering what might happen, he was too desperate to take his opportunity. 

After a long, long while of shuffling, John found himself before a window. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw the glass, saw greens and blues beyond. In an instant he was by the window, body pressed as close to it as possible, desperate to feel the air, as though he could pass through the glass just by willing himself to. 

He could see the outside. He could see a blue sky, dotted with fluffy clouds, pierced by the needles of trees. Grass waved slowly below him. He didnt know what floor he was on, he just knew he had descended at least one set of stairs, so he couldn't be on the top floor. He could see the white dots of daisies coating the green below, and the winding road he so clearly remembered going down with his friends leading away to where he could see town.

If he craned his neck and stood in a certain spot, he could see his house. 

A sob choked him. He could see the path to his home, he could see people moving around in the town, he could see trees and telephone wires and it all felt so familiar and he just wanted to go, to run out there and sprint all the way home and tell everyone that he was okay. 

He tried not to think about the blond boy still asleep in their now-shared bed. There wasn't any way to bring him with them, but.. guilt twinged his stomach at the thought of abandoning him to his brother. All that mattered was he could see his home, he could see the outside, for the first time in god knows how long. 

"And here I thought Dave had trained his pet well."

The sudden voice sent sharp fear shooting down John's spine, but he couldn't process anything before electricity was once again shooting through him from the prongs still sticking into his neck, a sensation he had almost forgotten thanks to being free from it for so long. 

Once the shocks died off, John felt his knees give out and he crumpled to the floor, staring at the ceiling in shock. Bro's smirking face appeared above him, a hand threateningly holding the remote to Johns shock collar. 

"I think pets should be punished when they're bad, dont you?" the man almost crooned, making John feel sick to his stomach. His entire body ached too badly to even consider moving away, so he just lay there and begged for Bro to be in a good mood. He was sick of being in pain. 

"Now, what should we do?" Bro asked, and John jolted, having almost forgotten what was being said in his bone-numbing tiredness. He didnt respond, staring blankly at the man bent over him, until he felt a sharp pain in his side. Bro had kicked him, and none too carefully either. "I said," the man hissed, "what should we do?"

Fishing desperately for an appropriate answer, John clearly took too long, earning him yet another harsh kick to the side. 

"I.. I dont know, sir," he admitted, hoping it was an acceptable response. Bro scowled and swiftly drove his foot into the boy yet again. Clearly not. 

"Maybe we should ask Dave," Bro said, thumb inching dangerously close to the button on the remote in his hand that would send electricity through John again. "I'm sure you'd love any punishment he decided to give you."

John opened his mouth to reply, but only a yelp escaped as the shock collar was once again turned on, making him writhe and gasp on the floor, feeling humiliated and angry and upset and in pain all at once. Bro leaning over him didnt help, only served to make him feel trapped and even more humiliated. 

"Now," the blond said suddenly, shutting off the shocks and clearly expecting John to recover instantly, which he valiantly tried to do for fear of more shocks. "Why were you out of your room?"

"I just wanted to feel the outside.." John muttered, face ablaze with humiliation and rage.

"Why? We not taking care of you good enough? Way to be grateful."

"I hardly think kidnapping and torturing someone counts as taking good care of them!" John snapped, immediately biting his tongue at the anger that crossed Bro's face. 

"I'd watch it if I were you, you little-"

"What the hell are you doing?"

Looking to the side, John could almost cry in relief. Dave stood there, hair mussed from sleep, eyes bleary as he covered them with sunglasses, eyebrows pulled down in a frown. 

Bro straightened up, moving to push past his little brother. As he passed, he muttered something that John couldn't quite catch, but that turned Dave's frown to a scowl. 

"Take better care of your pet from now on. Wouldn't want him to be unhappy."

Bro hissed the last word, almost spitting it at Dave. The younger boy barely flinched, but John could see his hands curling into fists, and then Bro had pushed past him and disappeared.

John begged for a longer look at the outside, and Dave complied, allowing John to stare for as long as he wished. 

Eventually, the sight hurt Johns heart too much to continue, and he reluctantly allowed Dave to lead him back to their room and cuddle him until everything hurt less. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all sorry it's been so long
> 
> Kankri Warnings: I mean there's a panic attack and a nightmare but neither are hugely graphic or anything

John awoke the next morning with a broken sob and a constricted chest, his eyes wide and teary. Remnants of a nightmare spun and twisted in his brain, making him space in and out with tight breaths and shallow gasps. 

His rough breathing only got worse when Dave awoke and wrapped his arms around the brunet, presumably to calm him down, whispering something that John couldn't quite hear over the rushing in his ears. 

He wasn't sure when he flipped out, but in an instant he was across the room and Dave was holding a hand over his eye, cursing loudly. The smaller teen couldn't respond. His breath was coming quickly, too quickly, and his chest ached and his head was spinning and through blurred vision he could see his hands shaking like leaves. 

It took him a moment to realise he was mumbling, and he couldn't even tell what he was saying, the roaring and crashing in his ears reaching a crescendo and his vision held spots of black and his head was spinning and somewhere he could hear Dave muttering something but it felt like he was miles away and John was hearing him over a low-quality phone call and it felt like an asthma attack in his lungs and a monster destroying his brain and fuckfuckfuck _fuckfuckfuck_

After what felt like years, John could inhale and exhale slowly and properly, like he should. His vision returned to normal, the room once again blindingly white, and he looked around in confusion to get his bearings. He had shot into the corner like a scared animal, Dave kneeling by him with a comforting hand on his shoulder. The blond was sporting a blossoming black eye, and John noted with a wince that both their pairs of glasses were still on the bedside tables. 

After a moment, John realised the word he was muttering was  _sorry,_ over and over again, and slowly his voice died out as Dave shushed him, patting his shoulder gently. 

"Sorry," he mumbled out one last time, and Dave forced a reassuring smile.

"It's alright," the blond said, continuing to cautiously pat the brunets shoulder. "What made you.. flip out like that?"

John took a shuddering breath, trying to remember, and it was a moment before the nightmare flew back to the forefront of his memory and he had to contain a pained gasp.

In the nightmare, he had been sitting alone in a room. Everything had been plain, blinding white, hurting John's eyes and making him squint behind his glasses. There had been no doors, no windows, no anything, and yet he hadn't been restrained.

There had been a heavy silence, feeling as though it weighed down on his shoulders and his head, but when he slumped slightly it was as though a string tugged his head sharply, forcing him to stand up unnaturally straight. It was then that he realised the aching, aching pain centred dully in his palms, elbows, shoulders, head and feet.

When he had looked down, screws were protruding from the offending areas, dried blood surrounding them, and he felt a vague sense of sickness. Strings extended upwards from the screws, attached to something on the ceiling. When John had tried to look up, the white had gotten even more blinding, and he had been forced to look down.

It was unnerving, and the heavy silence made his skin crawl and his hair stand on end. He noted that he was clothed, thank God, in his simple shorts and t-shirt, but the fabric felt almost constricting, like it was keeping him trapped there. 

All of a sudden, Jade had popped into existence before him.

John had cried out, but when he tried to reach forward for her, the string attached to his palm jerked him roughly back, and he was forced to stand and watch as her smile slowly turned to betrayal, and tears rolled down her cheeks, face contorting into fear.

 _Why didnt you help me..._ she had asked, but it didnt seem to come from her mouth, despite her lips moving. It was inside Johns brain, echoing again and again, whispering to him about how he was worthless and useless and weak, so weak, not even able to gather the strength to save his best friend.

His eyes remained hopelessly dry as he watched Jade cry, and he had a vague sense that it was a dream, but the nightmare had quickly crushed that line of thought. A line appeared down Jade's front and slowly, painfully, it tore, opening up Jade's insides like John had been forced to watch not that long before, the nightmare making him relive it in the worst possible way.

Jade's scream echoed in his head and his ears, bouncing off the walls, blood seeping and staining the perfect white, every move he made to save her being jerked back by the strings attaching him to the ceiling, making the flesh around the screws sting and ache.

And then Jade was gone, the blood was gone, and he blinked, the sudden disappearance harsh and unexpected. 

It didnt take long for Jade's body to be replaced with Jake's, the brunets voice once again echoing insults in John's ears, even as he was forced to watch as Jake's face twisted into pure terror, the man falling to his knees, lips still moving to speak the words bouncing in John's brain, harsh words that cut and stung.

And then Jake was gone, only to be replaced with Jane, glaring harshly at him. Her words were even more biting than the last two, telling him just how worthless he was, too much of a pussy and a loser to even try and escape, allowing himself to be manipulated into trusting his kidnapper, such a fucking weakling.

Jane was replaced by Roxy, who was somehow even worse. She just looked at him, face creased with disappointment, hands empty for once, just looking at him with so much regret and sadness that made John want to fall to his knees and sob, but every move he made resulted in him being pulled back into position by whoever was operating his puppet strings.

His eyes stayed resolutely dry, and that was maybe the worst part, as Roxy's saddened gaze turned into Rose's piercing glare and then into his father shaking his head in anger and disappointment, he wanted nothing more than to cry. But no tears came, and he was stuck standing in an awkwardly stiff position, unable to move for the life of him. 

Somehow, the nightmare was more chilling the way it was than if he had just dreamt about violence, or torture. The faces of his friends in anguish and disappointment and anger was almost too much to bear, and all he could do was let his face crumple as his brain finished it's cycle through all his friends and the last one faded out of existence. 

He briefly thought it was over, until every one of his friends and his father gathered in front of him, each wearing expressions of pain, or anger, or sadness, or disappointment, or a mix of the four. They surrounded him, feeling crushing, reducing the space in the already small room to next to nothing, leaving him barely any room to breathe, let alone move, and holy fuck were the walls closing in? He was pretty sure they were. 

It took him a moment to realise that everyone was whispering something, over and over, pointing with undisguised disgust towards him, held there by his own brain as his heart broke and the walls slowly closed in, compressing his friends closer as their chant filled his brain, pushing out all else.

_Useless. Useless. Useless. Useless._

The first tear fell, because they were right, he really was useless, wasn't he? He couldn't even hate his captors fully, he fucking trusted one of them, he couldn't even think of a plan to escape. He let his best friend die, he led her to her fucking death and now he was just sitting around like the worthless fucking loser he was.

The chant got louder, drowning out anything else, only repeating what he already knew, that he was useless, useless, useless. The walls were definitely closing in, and yet strings still held him paralysed, his eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking out of them, and Jade's blood was staining the untainted floor yet again and screams were joining the chant and they were the screams of his friends and there was nothing he could do because he was  _useless._

The floor fell out from beneath them.

His friends disappeared, leaving John suspended by strings above an endless void, unable to look down by the string tugging at his skull. Fear that felt hot and heavy and real gnawed at him, and he tried to tell himself that it wasn't real, but it felt so real and he couldn't think of anything else except the screams and chants of his friends.

With a click and a snap, the strings broke, sending John tumbling down into the inky darkness, a scream tearing from his throat as dark wrapped spindly fingers around his heart, threatening to tear it from his chest, wrapping him in a blanket of void that promised to steal his soul and swallow it up, never to be seen again, pulling him into death and cold and no one would ever know what happened to him.

And then he had woken up in a cold sweat, chest constricted, and punched Dave in the face when he tried to help, and now he was curled in the corner like a startled kitten, his brain desperately trying to sift through the crushing layers of the nightmare.

He was vaguely aware of Dave cautiously reaching for him now, and all the fight left his body. He crumpled, allowing Dave to carefully wrap his arms around him and run a four-fingered hand through his tangled hair, shushing him gently. The fingers caught in the knots in Johns black hair and he flinched, the hand immediately stilling, but before long the brunet relaxed and allowed Dave to continue combing out his locks.

"It's alright," Dave whispered, under his breath, holding John close, so close that the younger team could hear the slow heartbeat of the blond. Dave seemed unnaturally calm, but the slow steady beat soothed the brunet, making his eyelids droop as the comforting touches and sounds threatened to drag him back into his nightmare.

He almost flipped out, but remembered he had already hurt Dave once, and simply began to lash in instead. His brain insulted him repeatedly, whispering cold words that cut and bled insecurity and suffering, although outwardly he simply curled his head closer towards the older teen holding him close.

Tears rolled from Johns eyes, soaking into Dave's shirt, but the blond didnt get mad or push him away like John expected. He held him close, held him gently, held him almost lovingly, his embrace warm and inviting, but John could think of nothing but his nightmare. 

He felt like such a worthless piece of shit. Here he was, clinging like a child to a psychopath who kidnapped him, salt dripping from his eyes squeezed tightly shut, shoulders shaking with the effort of even existing just then, points on his body retaining some ghost sensation of dream screws piercing his flesh, keeping him tied to the ceiling in a cruel mockery of puppeteering. Tied to Dave with some mockery of puppeteering.

His friends whispers echoed yet again into his mind, and he choked back a whimper, trying not to think about the contortions of disgust that had been decorating the features of his loved ones. They had to still love him, right? They couldn't just forget him! They had to still love him. 

 _Ha. Who would love someone as worthless as you?_ his mind supplied unhelpfully, but he knew they had to be right, he was worthless and useless and he'd be better off dead. 

Maybe if he died, he would be with Jade again. It'd be an escape from the hell he had found himself trapped in, it'd be his ticket out, because some deep-rooted knowledge told him he wouldn't be getting out of this place in any way other than in a van with his eyes glassy and his heart still. 

It was a bleak prospect, but as Dave held him close and he allowed it, he allowed this nightmare to caress and console him - and it made him feel all the worse, his will to live shrivelling up in his chest even as he cried, fingers fisted in Dave's tear-soaked shirt - he could see no future for him that didnt involve pain and death. 

If by some miracle of nature he escaped and made it to his friends again, would they even want to see him?

His will to live shrivelled a little more.

He had killed one of their best friends, and gotten one of them raped, and he had been marked and branded in a way that would never allow them to forget it, and he wouldn't be surprised if they wanted to die every time they saw him, if he even ever got free.

Maybe he was better off accepting that he wasn't getting out of his situation anytime soon, he was trapped here for likely the rest of his life, and even that seemed like it wouldn't be too much longer based on how much older he felt even now in comparison to just a few weeks ago.

It felt odd to muse, as he sat there with a psychopath combing his hair with a hand missing a finger as he sobbed into his chest, that just a few weeks before he had been happy, had been normal, had been worried about such trivial things about being late to school and getting stared at in class. He would give quite literally anything to be back in that classroom, harsh mutterings and all. 

But he was here, and he was useless, and his brain made sure he knew that fact very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whop
> 
> Who knows where this fic is going? Not me that's 4 sure


End file.
